


To Split A Soul

by strawberrysummers



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Adventure, And Renjun is mysterious but alluring, Anxiety, Coming of Age, Exploration, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Jaemin has a suppressed past, Jaemin is an enigma and Renjun likes to do mysterious things, Jealousy, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Mystery kind of, Nighttime Aesthetic, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Teenage experiences, a little weird, as accurately depicted as possible, but theres something about it, dark themes so please don't read if uncomfy!, nighttime delinquents, they only hang out at night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 67,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25035718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrysummers/pseuds/strawberrysummers
Summary: Na Jaemin only meets Huang Renjun in the night,sitting near a stream where the wind whispers strange stories and moonlight flickers on the water’s surface.Renjun, who sits there every night waiting for someone who never comes, let’s Jaemin fill in his gap.And Jaemin, who escapes there from his nightmares, lets Renjun break down his walls.Or: Jaemin has a fear of water. Yet Renjun spends all of his time near it.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin
Comments: 69
Kudos: 225





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW! anxiety, PTSD, aquaphobia. I try to depict these things as accurately as I can <3  
> this is recommended to be read at night! 
> 
> word count: 67k
> 
> I love you guys <3

  
  
  


Na Jaemin encounters Huang Renjun for the first time on a strange and quiet night, during the early autumn of 2019. Something about the air felt different as the moon claims its place in the sky. A mist rolled over the city of Yeosan, blanketing it in a hazy ambiance. 

He walks along the dimly lit streets. 

Yeosan was a city that stood somewhere in the middle of traditional and modern, with a downtown area that had quaint shopping and eating outlets. A couple high rises, but nothing too expansive like the urban metropolis of Busan or Seoul. But most people lived in tight suburbs that surrounded that small downtown area, weaved with rows and rows of two-story homes, all equipped with pretty front lawns and clothing lines hanging on the windows. The suburbs seemed to go on for forever, in twisted rows and columns, like a never ending maze full of mid-grade mundane lives. 

There were around four or five high schools in the district, and all of whom were only a bike ride or a small drive away. The further a person gets from the suburbs, the more fresh air there seems to be. More woodsy walking paths, more fields, more trees. Yeosan sat at the bottom of a lopsided bowl of sorts, with the downtown area straight across from the river where travellers would have to cross to get into the city. Once inside, a person would see, just past downtown, the suburban expanse and then after that, nothing. Just woods and forestry. 

During the day, Yeosan functioned like any middle sized city. With cars that go up and down the streets on their way to work, probably working in downtown like everyone else. And children playing in the street, knees scratching up on the asphalt when they fall. A sunny, typical suburban life. 

But when night falls, Yeosan goes quiet. And instead of that bright, monochromatic daytime that Na Jaemin fears, night’s shadow takes over. It was all a little eerie, anyone else would say. The contrast between day and night in Yeosan was evident. When night falls, parent’s take their children inside. And the streets go quiet aside from the occasional car of rambunctious teenagers blaring music in the mid-size nothing-to-do city. People turn off their lights, awaiting sleep. The windows close, blinds shut, the town goes dead.

And this was, curious enough, when Na Jaemin preferred to be out the most.

It was 10 P.M., a strange time to be walking the streets of Yeosan by himself. 

But then again, Jaemin was a bit of a strange individual himself. 

Everyone said so, and even he knew it. For nine years. Six months. Twenty seven days, he knew it. He heard the whispers around the hallway, around his home when relatives were over, even when they weren't over. He hears what they say about him.  _ What a shame, such a handsome kid gone to waste. _ Or maybe an occasional  _ I’d go for him if he wasn’t so strange _ . He sees the looks. Pity, curiosity, sorrow. 

Standing at 5’10, with naturally broad shoulders, even more naturally perfect black hair, and what many deemed to be a handsome face, it was evident that Na Jaemin was something of a handsome enigma. A puzzle. Maybe that was why he wasn’t made fun of in school. Instead, the students treated him as a novelty, as a mystery that they wanted to be the one who uncovers what’s underneath. They saw him only as that quiet, mysterious boy who they could oggle from afar, and create backwards fantasies inside their minds over how to be the person who gets to figure Na Jaemin out. 

Figure out why Na Jaemin never really talks to anyone besides his two friends Lee Jeno and Mark Lee. And even then, he didn’t ever  _ actually  _ talk to them aside from a word or two. He just sticks around at lunch, rather stuck in his own thoughts. They wanted to figure out why the boy preferred to spend all of his time alone. Studies alone. Walks the hallways alone. Quite everything else. 

Figure out why that whenever anyone came up to speak to him, he never looked them in the eye, much less respond. Figure out why Jaemin always takes the long route around the school courtyard rather than through it. They knew it was to avoid the water fountain, but  _ why _ . They wanted to figure out why this handsome persona never attended parties despite being invited to many, and why he had an especially  _ negative _ reaction when it was a mention of a pool party. 

They wanted to figure out why Na Jaemin received special permission from the school principal to skip out on swimming days during the gym period. People remembered when that started happening. Back in fourth grade, before he was given the privilege of skipping, small Na Jaemin had caused a huge commotion when the coach tried to make him go into the pool, screaming and flailing. Screaming out words that didn’t really make sense, and tears streaking down his face as he begged not to. People still remember that happening today, but no one knew why that incident occurred in the first place. Something had happened that caused it, and no one knew. 

By now, it had been obvious to most of the school that his problem was a fear of water. They dwindled it down to probably some incident of almost drowning in his childhood, but no one was really sure.

In fact, Na Jaemin wasn’t particularly sure either. Only his parents knew, but they never told him. Jaemin knew something  _ had _ happened, but none of the details. All newspapers were taken down regarding the incident, all traces from the media disappeared via request. His parents had done this for Jaemin’s sake, for the boy fared so much worse when he  _ did _ remember than now, when he didn’t. 

And Jaemin never asks. He didn’t need to know. All he knew were the clear and obvious facts he presumed: he had almost drowned, and now, he can no longer go near water. He wasn’t sure, and at times, it felt wrong in his mind. But nevertheless, he doesn’t ask. Again, he didn’t need to know the details. 

In fact, before fourth grade, he doesn’t remember much. It wasn’t like the natural forgetting of childhood memories that most people experienced. Jaemin knew it was through self suppression done for so long, years upon years, that now, he had suppressed the memories so well that he couldn’t even remember what had happened if he  _ tried _ . 

The only snippets he got of what happened were his daily nightmares. They always come just when he was about to go to sleep: the flashbacks. Just a second at a time, like vinyl scratches or radio static. Roaring water. Screaming. A rock. Limbs. Just tiny little frames of pictures like those, rushing through his mind right before he went to sleep. 

Maybe that was why, at times like this, at 10 P.M. when most people would be heading to bed, he preferred to walk the streets of Yeosan by himself. It was quiet and dark, and no one could judge him now. In the darkness of the night, he did not stand out. He wears a plain navy blue t-shirt, and a pair of black joggers, blending into the night. It was the only time he  _ could _ blend in. 

Now, when everything in Yeosan is quiet besides the autumn wind and one or two occasional cars going down the street, he can walk and take deep breaths. 

He has done this every day for a couple years now, and it was always generally the same path. A turn here. A turn there, He makes a path through the suburbs until he reaches the edge, and then he walks along the forest line for a while that sat at the edge of Yeosan. And then, when his legs got tired, he would go home. In the state of exhaustion, his mind produced less of the flashbacks. Still some, but they would stop as soon as he was knocked out. 

And it had always been like that. The same path. The same quiet streets illuminated only by a couple lamps and the overhead moonlight. Other than that, it was like those dollhouses from people’s childhoods. Everything went still when the eerie night falls. Not literally, but that’s what it felt like. He can hear his parent’s soft breathing as he passes their bedroom out the door every night through the back porch. His neighborhood was dead silent. Only occasionally would he see another person, but most likely, they had business of their own to tend to. Other than that, it felt as if he was the only person left in the world walking these streets. 

However, tonight, it was a bit different. A mist that was low to the ground snuck its way through Yeosan. It was not that heavy, and didn’t even reach his waist. But the fog rose to the man’s mid calf and it added even more so to the eerie ambiance. It was a bit quieter that night than most nights. The autumn wind was not as powerful as it usually is, and he searched for sound but did not find much. His legs take him on his usual path and he weaves in and out of the suburban streets of Yeosan until he reaches the tree line again. 

The fog stopped here, and finally, he can see the ground where he was walking once more. The dark green grass. The green bushes everywhere, still not turned yellow or red because it was only the beginning of autumn. He didn’t really know why he took this path every day, he just did. He deduced it to being just the aesthetic of the treeline that drew him in. 

He cranes his neck to see the moon. It was full today, and its bright white glow casted a light onto everything. It was absolutely beautiful, and even as Jaemin reaches the edge of his usual trail, where he would usually turn back, today for some reason he felt like continuing. Maybe he’d find a new path to walk on, after all this time. It was getting a bit old after all. 

For some reason, his body urged him forward tonight. Something was whispering in his ear: maybe the wind, maybe the slightly rattling leaves, or maybe it was the footsteps of deer in the woods. It was urging him to continue. It was a strange feeling, but he was used to those. Strange feelings.

So in the dead of the night, Na Jaemin continues. His legs take him forward, along the edge of the treeline. He could still see Yeosan’s suburbs to his right, past the green plain that led up to the forest. But as he continued, it got smaller and smaller behind him. However, he knew that if he wanted to run back, he could do it in less than 10 minutes, he was sure. It wasn’t too far. 

The forest line was dense in the beginning, where if he looked into the thicket, all he would see were more and more trees for far to come. He had never gone in, in fear of getting lost, just skirted along the outside, but he had just assumed that it was just trees for miles deep. However, it looked as if he was wrong, for the further along the treeline that he walked, the thinner the actual forest seemed to be. 

It came closer and closer to a divet, until when he looks in, he can see past it. Maybe it was another field past the forest. Maybe it was a valley. He wasn’t sure quite yet. An unsettling feeling overtook his stomach.

But he walked further along, and it was getting more obvious. There was a sound. Like trickling. Or flowing and ebbing. He felt his heart begin to race a little bit. A natural reaction to water at this point, and it  _ was _ that. Water. He knew it was. He recognized that sound anywhere. And just a few steps forward, and he sees it too. The forest line was very thin now, probably just half of a football field’s length in width. Thin oaks dotted the area, but he could still see past it. 

A stream. It looked to be about 23 meters in width. He took a step backwards. Jaemin’s heart was beating a little fast, and a sick feeling overcame his stomach. He wanted to turn around, go back to Yeosan and walk around some more to clear his mind again since it obviously was not working now. His fingers began tingling, and inside of his gut, a horrible, twisted feeling rose. 

The man took another step back, about to tear his eyes away from the stream when he caught sight of something. 

A glint. A  _ bright _ glint. 

His eyes naturally gravitated towards it, turning his head back around in the direction it came from. His eyes darted back and forth against the water’s edge until there.  _ There _ . He saw it. 

Or, he saw  _ him _ . A person. Right there, a person.

He furrowed his brows, and focused his attention on what he was seeing. Was it a kid? A boy? No, he looked more closely, still standing at the edge of the trees on the opposite end. A loose white shirt, denim pants with a pair of sneakers. A person was sitting on the bank of the stream, back leaning up against the trunk of a tree, playing with some pale looking flower within his fingertips. Jaemin noticed those hands, slender fingers. Pretty ones. 

And his eyes trailed up. He was quite shocked to see that the boy had hair that was dyed a beautiful illustrious blonde that was so light in color that it was almost white. He knew that was the style nowadays, but Jaemin always thought that ultra blonde hair color never looked good on anyone. However, this boy, this boy who Jaemin now noticed to have extremely pretty features, pink lips, doe eyes that tapered at the edges, and a slender face, looked absolutely mesmerizing with the white hair. 

Jaemin tilted his head to the side a little, wondering why something about those eyes felt so alluring to him, so comforting despite being strangers. Something about that face just seemed to draw him in, as if he  _ needed _ to see this boy up close. But mostly, it was those eyes. Something about those eyes. Jaemin was far away relatively, but he could still see how absolutely mesmerizing they were, and he was perplexed. 

He was so perplexed that even with his phobia of water, he found his legs walking towards the stream. He didn’t know what took over him. Past the treeline and into the oak forest. He was making crunching footsteps on the ground, but the boy sitting on the water’s edge was too busy playing with the flower in his hands to notice. Jaemin pushed branches to the side and although his heart was thumping faster and faster as he approached the water, and could hear now the stark flowing of the crystalline stream, he found it so odd. 

Why was there a boy here? It had to be at least 11 P.M. by now, and Jaemin knew for teenagers, that wasn’t anything particularly too late, but it was still strange to see someone here  _ alone _ . Alone in such a strange place.

Jaemin approached and then he slowed down. The stream was right there, in front of him. All 20 or 23 or so meters in width. The water was shimmering underneath the moonlight, and to anyone else, it would have been beautiful. But to him, it was far from it. The stream was fast moving, and he found himself stepping backwards at the sight. It made his heart thump quickly and he felt light headed looking at it, palms sweating. 

His step backwards made a crack in a branch underneath his feet, and he was finally close enough to the boy sitting up against that tree for him to notice. 

The white-haired boy, startled, dropped the flower he had been twirling in his fingers, and it fell into the stream, kicked up by the current, and the boy stood up immediately. Eyes wide, he searched for where the sound had come from. 

When the boy caught sight of Na Jaemin, he froze. Like a deer in headlights. He froze completely. His eyes stared straight into Jaemin’s soul, and Na Jaemin almost felt paralyzed himself. Those eyes. Brown, but absolutely beautiful. They looked bright and glassy underneath the moonlight. The boy looked at Jaemin with a shocked expression, a silence sat between them. And Jaemin would not be surprised if he had scared the person. Hell, if he had been sitting there in the woods and a stranger came up to him, he would be terrified too. The boy didn’t move, but his eyes scanned all over Jaemin, taking in all of his features and his lips were parted. Pretty, pink lips. 

So Jaemin takes slow steps forward, gaining his confidence from the nighttime ambiance. It was only nighttime that he found the confidence to step a little out of his comfort zone. He surprised himself with how bold he was being. 

With a slow, but steady voice, Jaemin asks the boy, “What are you doing here alone?” 

The boy looked at him some more, eyes blinking rapidly a couple times before he swallowed. As if coming down from shock, the white-haired boy parts his lips as if to speak. And then he closes them again, still staring at Jaemin, eyes raking over the handsome man’s features. 

Jaemin stood there patiently, waiting for the kid to finally say something. The stranger stands there for a moment and then finally, it seems as if he relaxed a little. 

The boy then speaks, and Jaemin’s mind goes  _ blank _ . 

It goes completely blank, and he didn’t even hear what the boy had to say. His mind went blank, because he had never heard a voice that pretty in his life. A little closed in the back of his throat, but still such a pretty sound, like a song. The boy’s voice was what stars would sound like if they could speak. 

Having not heard what the boy said, Jaemin shakes his head and asks, “Come again?”

This time, he hears what the boy had to say. 

“I said,” The soft, but alluring voice says, “I’m not alone.”

At this, Jaemin furrows his brows and steps back, looking around him. That was a  _ bit _ concerning, because as far as he saw, there was nobody in the vicinity but the two of them and he eyes the boy warily. He was suddenly aware of how spooky it was that he had just involuntarily walked towards a stranger in the woods, sitting by a stream that didn’t settle well in his body.

Jaemin asks hesitantly, “What do you mean.”

At this, the white-haired boy laughs lightly, such a pretty laugh, and shakes his head, “I mean I’m not alone. You’re here now, aren’t you?” 

“Oh,” Jaemin realized and brought a hand up to rub his face a little before looking back at the boy, “Well, what were you doing here alone before I came?”

The white haired boy purses his lips and looks over the stream. A sigh escapes his lips and he sits down on the edge of the stream, back leaned up against the tree and he stares at his own fingers, “I’m waiting on someone.”

Jaemin could sense some sadness in the boy’s voice and he treads carefully, “Waiting on someone?” 

The boy nods, looking up at Jaemin, “Yes, he’s supposed to meet me here yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that, but he never came so I’ just here again.” 

Jaemin chuckles a little, not sure why he was making light conversation with this stranger when he could barely have one with people in his school. Maybe it was something about the night that made him like this. Something about the boy made him like this. 

He speaks up, “He doesn’t sound worth it.”

The random boy laughs lightly, not tearing his gaze away once even when he blinks, “That’s what I’m thinking too.”

“And yet you’re here,” Jaemin observes, “You sound a little obsessed.”

The boy gives him a funny smile and tilts his head, “Not exactly.”

They stand in a weird sort of silence, but silence in conversation was something Jaemin was already used to. 

“So what brings you out tonight?” The stranger asks him. 

Jaemin ponders whether or not to inform the white-haired boy, “It’s none of your business.”

The kid raises an eyebrow at the remark, “Running away from something?”

Jaemin pauses, then nods, “Something like that.”

And then, once more, a weird pause in between. 

“You don’t talk much, do you?” The stranger then asks. 

And at this, Jaemin shoots him a set of narrow eyes, “No,” He says distastefully, “I don’t.”

“Ah,” the smaller nods, “So what do I owe the pleasure? Aren’t you afraid of strangers?”

Jaemin steps back on his heel and shrugged, “I just found it strange that some kid hangs around these woods at such a time.”

“Kid?” The boy gives him a look.

Jaemin tilts his head, “How old are you then?”

“18.” The boy answers. 

Jaemin nods, “18. So we’re the same age then. Where do you go? I go to Sunra High.”

The white-haired boy purses his lips and seems to hesitate before answering him, “I go to Tenjo High.”

Jaemin knew where that was. It was near where Jaemin lived, but far enough that the district line stopped and the students had to go to another high school for capacity reasons. Tenjo High. He didn’t know anyone from there, but then again, he didn’t know anyone in general so that was besides the point. He had noticed the hesitation in the stranger’s voice when he answered. 

Jaemin called him out on it, “Why’d you hesitate?”

The boy blinked at him and furrowed his brows a little bit, getting suddenly defensive, “I mean, if you were sitting here, minding your own business. And a stranger comes up and asks you where you go to school, you would hesitate too.”

Jaemin pursed his lips and thought about it. The boy had a point, and put his hands up in surrender, “Okay, I’m sorry,” Jaemin then nodded to himself and then stepped back, eyeing the stream warily, “I’ll...go then,” He says, “In case your friend comes soon.”

Suddenly, the boy looks over at him and shakes his head, “He won’t. Not tonight.”

Jaemin had taken a step back, but he frowns and asks anyways, “So then why do you wait?”

At this, the boy looks down and shrugs, “I have to.”

Not knowing what to say, considering he wasn’t used to having conversations with people, Jaemin nods, “Well then, I’ll leave you to i-”

“No,” The boy suddenly looked up and said, “You’re already here. You can stay for a bit, can’t you?” 

In the moonlight, the boy’s eyes looked imploring, as if he was lonely, and Jaemin felt that draw again. As if he had to. As if he should. But he eyed the stream. His heart was still feeling nervous from being so near it. He knew he couldn’t fall in unless he tried to, since he was a few meters away, but it still caused his palms to get sweaty.

“What’s your name,” Jaemin asks, not looking at the boy, still staring at the shimmering stream.

The boy took a moment to answer, longer than most people would when it came to their name. It seemed as if he was too busy looking at Jaemin, for the taller could see it in his peripheral vision.

“Renjun,” the white-haired boy finally says. And Jaemin whips his head towards him at that name. The name, it was so pretty. It was so alluring, just like those eyes. And Jaemin thinks about it. He rolls the name around on his tongue.  _ Renjun. Renjun _ . It sounds so pretty, in such a strange way. It wasn’t a very common name, he figures it’s that. 

He looks at the boy. Renjun hadn’t asked for his name in return, but he figures he would offer it anyways, “Jaemin. Na Jaemin.”

The white-haired boy nods slowly, eyes staring back into Jaemin’s soul again, his lips parted slightly as if he had words on his tongue, but he closes them again. Instead, he looks over and patted the spot besides him, “Well, Jaemin, now that you know my name, you can keep me company until then, right?” 

Jaemin looks over to the side, and hesitates, “I can stand right here.”

The boy, Renjun, gives him a look and tries to turn his body to look up at Jaemin, “Why? The stream is beautiful.”

Jaemin doesn’t look at it, but he shakes his head, “It isn’t.”

“It is.” 

“It isn’t, and I’m not going anywhere near it,” Jaemin says, voice tapering off at the end. 

The Renjun boy goes quiet for a moment as if thinking and a silence falls between them. The sound of the stream was now very clear, and Jaemin is only affirmed in his stance that he would rather stand here far from the edge. 

Renjun finally speaks up, “You’re afraid of water.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Jaemin’s eyes flicker up to the boy and he purses his lips and looks up to the sky. He always found it embarrassing when people talked to him about this. It used to happen all the time at school until it became common knowledge. 

But Na Jaemin looks over at the boy and lets out a small sigh before saying in a low voice, “Something like that.”

At the reply, Renjun’s eyes soften and there was a sense of sorrow in them, as if he truly felt bad for Jaemin and Na Jaemin didn’t particularly like that. He hated seeing pity in people’s eyes. 

Renjun speaks up, “Well, you can stay there if you want then. I’ll sit here, though. I like the water.”

Jaemin nodded, and took his time to get settled. He crouched down until he could comfortably sit on the ground, and they were about a couple meters away from each other, but that was enough. 

Jaemin asks, “Why?”

Renjun hums, “Why what?”

“Why do you like the water?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun looks at him as if it was a dumb question. Who in the world ever asked why someone liked  _ water _ . The boy smiled, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He gestures out at the stream, “I wish I could swim in it.”

Jaemin furrowed his brows, arms resting on his knees, “Why don’t you?”

Renjun laughs at this and looks at Jaemin with those sparkling eyes, “It’s deep. And I don’t know how to swim. It’s funny, right? I love the water, but I don’t know how to swim.” 

Jaemin did find that a bit odd, “Why don’t you learn?”

Renjun shrugged, “I never had the time.” 

Jaemin nodded and they fell into a silence. Here he was, with a stranger that had hair a little too bright, sitting a little too close to the stream than he’d prefer. His neck was sweating a little bit, and he kept on fidgeting with his fingers to make him focus on Renjun rather than the stream in front of them. 

Finally, Renjun asks, “So, tell me, how did you find yourself here specifically?”

Jaemin runs his hands through his hair, and he sighs, “I said it’s none of your business.”

“Well you’re not very fun,” Renjun responds, “You could tell me you know, and nothing has to leave this place.”

He looked up at Jaemin, and the boy in question felt himself go blind from how bright those eyes were. So pretty. So alluring. Jaemin parts his lips and thinks about it. Sometimes on nights like this when it gets a little late, he’s tempted to give in a little. Divulge a little more, but there was never anyone to divulge to. Usually, at least. 

Jaemin sighs and then he shrugs, “I go on walks every night, to help me sleep. Or else I’ll get nightmares.”

Renjun looks at him with those same sad eyes again, and Jaemin wishes he could stop. The smaller boy speaks up in a small voice, “Nightmares?” 

Jaemin nods, looking down at his hands, “Yeah.”

“Of...what, if I may ask?” Renjun purses his lips.

The taller didn’t want to think of it, and he gives a half answer, “Something that happened a long time ago. Something I can’t even remember.”

Renjun bites his lips and once again, looks at Jaemin with sorrow, as if he felt bad for Jaemin for what seemed to be a sad life: afraid of water, unable to sleep, has no option but to make friends with strangers they find on nightly walks. 

And Jaemin calls him out on it, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Renjun asks, playing with the grass underneath him. 

“Like you pity me,” Jaemin says quietly, “I get enough of that as it is.”

Renjun furrows his brows and he leans forward off of the trunk, “Then stop being pitiful.”

Jaemin looks up at the boy and gives him an incredulous look. This was definitely not a reaction he was used to getting. Usually, people would apologize and promise to try to treat him normally, ultimately failing to do so. But Renjun looked as if he had no plans of doing so. Jaemin was not sure whether to be impressed and relieved by his candidacy or upset at the refusal to treat him normally. 

“Excuse me?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun looks at the boy, “Stop being pitiful.”

“ _ God _ ,” Jaemin scoffs and looks over to the side, “I know why the person you’re waiting for won’t come now.”

Renjun looked a little hurt by that remark but he pursed his lips and moved on, “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that. Jaemin, I’m saying this for your own good.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Jaemin refutes, “We just met.”

Jaemin says this knowing full well that this had been the longest conversation that Jaemin has had with anyone for the past years or so, and it was upsetting him that it wasn’t turning out so well, only proving his want to keep to himself further. He didn’t know how he was able to continue, but something about the boy urged him to speak.

“Tell me then,” Renjun says, placing his chin on the palm of one of his hands as he waits, “I have time.” 

He gave Renjun a curious look, “You have time to listen to the problems of a stranger?”

“In fact, I do,” Renjun tells him.

Jaemin then laughs dryly, “I don’t even tell my parents.”

“So?” Renjun asks, “Sometimes, it’s easier to tell strangers. Because you know you won’t have to live with their judgement.”

He was right. 

Jaemin shakes his head, wondering why tonight he felt more talkative to this slightly rude stranger, but he sighs, “I live every day with people thinking I’m some type of freak. With people wondering why I can’t do something as simple as walk through a courtyard because there’s a fountain in it and why I barely talk. With people whispering behind my back that I’m not...normal.” 

He shrugs, “I live my life only knowing half of the picture, because I can’t handle the whole thing. So it feels like trying to find my way out of a maze wearing a blindfold.”

He didn’t really have the capability to say more, with this being more than he would comfortably share with others, as little as it was.

Renjun purses his lips and looks away, sighing before saying, “There’s only one thing you can do, you know.”

Jaemin waits for him to continue, and he sits there, still feeling a bit frustrated at the boy’s rude candidacy.

The white-haired boy speaks, “You can’t stop people from judging. And I don’t say this to tell you that you should change yourself to stop people from judging you. Because you shouldn’t. But in  _ this _ case, don’t you think your fear is stopping your life? Don’t you think it’s hindering your ability to live freely?”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything. There is only one obvious answer. 

So Renjun continues propositioning, “So what I’m saying is that the only thing you can do...is get over your fear, Jaemin.”

Jaemin opens his mouth to protest to this blunt stranger, “Renjun, you act as if that’s easy. If it was, the-”

“It’s not easy,” Renjun interrupts and then looks at him, scooting closer a bit. This was when Jaemin noticed just how pretty Renjun’s features were. Skin as smooth and clear as alabaster. Long lashes. Pink lips. Hauntingly beautiful underneath the pale moonlight, “I never said it was easy, Jaemin. But have you ever tried?”

“Of course I have,” Jaemin gives him a funny look, “I’ve gone to therapists, psychologists, life coaches even.”

At this, Renjun shakes his head, “No, no. I don’t think that’s the way to do it.”

“Yeah?” Jaemin was barely paying any attention. His gaze was turned towards the stream, it twisting knots into his stomach as he did so. 

“You need to get to the root of all of it. Only then will you get better,” Renjun proposes, fingers grabbing at the grass underneath where he sat.

_ Get better. _ Jaemin didn’t like that term. He frowned and now looks over at the boy, “And how do you propose I do that?”

The smaller continues, turning his head away from Jaemin and pursing his lips, “I’ll help you.” 

“You.” Jaemin says. He sputters it with a laugh. He didn’t even know this person. They had met mere minutes ago.

“Yes,” Renjun furrows his brows and sits back again. 

“I don’t even know you,” Jaemin laughs. 

Renjun purses his lips, and looks away at the blunt statement. He takes a breath and shrugs his shoulders, “So?”

“So?” Jaemin looks at him as if he was being ridiculous, “You’re a stranger. I don’t know you.” He emphasizes every word.

“Yeah, and?” Renjun asks again, pulling at the grass underneath where he sat until the weeds ripped from its roots.

“And why would I let a stranger help me?” Jaemin asks, “One that can’t even swim.”

Renjun opens his mouth to protest but he closes them again to think about it. He nods then, “True, but I can learn.”

Jaemin gives the boy a look of both admiration and insanity, “You’d learn how to swim to help out a stranger? I thought you never had time.”

Renjun shrugs, “I do now,” He looks solemn suddenly, “What else do I have to do while waiting these nights.”

And then they fell into a silence. Jaemin continues to look at the pretty boy and nods slowly, not actually considering the offer. It wasn’t as simple as that. It wasn’t as simple as  _ getting _ over it. Na Jaemin only took showers. He couldn’t take baths because submersion was terrifying, even though he knew there was no way he’d be able to drown in a bathtub. He had gone to professional help. It hadn’t worked. 

If that was the case, then how the hell would he even get over this fear in the first place. He had accepted a long time ago that he would die with this condition. 

So he doesn’t directly reply to Renjun’s offer, but instead, thinks on the boy’s ending words some more.

Na Jaemin looks towards Renjun, curiously asking to detract from the offer. 

Jaemin lets the curiosity overtake him, “Who is he?” 

Renjun looks up at Jaemin, and gives Na Jaemin a slight smile. One laced with a bit of sadness, just evident from those eyes. 

Jaemin wonders who is on this stranger’s mind. This mysterious boy who stakes out near the stream waiting for someone who promises to come but misses night by night. 

“I’ll tell you one day  _ if _ ,” Renjun says and turns to him, “and only if, you agree to come back.”

Jaemin chuckles at him, and then sits back, “Are you that lonely, Renjun?”

Funnily enough, Renjun gives him a strange look and asks him back with an almost knowing tone, “Are you not?”

_ Are you not _ ? Jaemin swallowed then looked away. Was he lonely? Yeah, he could say that he was lonely. To wake up every morning and awkwardly avoid the sad stares of his parents as he walks out the door to go to school. To sit in class, having the time go by as if part of a time-lapse film and he barely pays attention to what the teachers do, what the students do, what his friends even do. To have only two friends who he sometimes joins for company and sometimes not. To spend most of his days inside only to finally come outside during the night when everything is quiet and no one can see him. Yeah, he’d say that was the mark of a lonely life. Maybe that was why he was so willing to approach the strange white-haired boy like this. 

Jaemin shrugged, “Yeah, I get lonely.”

Renjun tilts his head to the side a bit, some strands of light blonde hair shifting as he moves, and his eyes are imploring and bright as he looks at Jaemin, “So let’s be lonely together.”

_ Lonely together _ . Jaemin finds himself thinking about those words. Lonely together. Was that not an oxymoron? To be together was to not be lonely. But maybe Renjun was right in a poetic sense. Both of them was lonely in some sense. Jaemin was lonely because of his strange behavior and self-isolating habits. Renjun was lonely because he sat here waiting for someone who didn’t seem to come. 

Maybe they could at least spend this night in each other’s company, if no other night after. Jaemin looks at the white-haired stranger. There was something about Renjun that intrigued him. Maybe it was the fact that they seemed to be similar in the sense that they spent their nights by themselves here in Yeosan. Or maybe it was Jaemin’s boldness when the sun went down and he could just blend in with the night. Regardless of whatever it was, Jaemin decides to stay that night. 

“Just for tonight,” Jaemin says, leaning his back up against the trunk of the tree. 

His knees were pulled up, and he kept on eyeing the water warily as if it would climb onto the bank and drag him away. He turned his gaze towards the stranger, who stared at him curiously, head tilted to the side a bit with eyes that looked to Jaemin as if they had known each other for forever. His eyes had depth like that.

And then, the white-haired mystery of a boy speaks. He says, “We’ll see. I think you’ll come back.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow at that, “What makes you say that?”

Renjun shugs and pats at the grass on the ground, “Intuition.” 

_ Intuition _ . Jaemin thinks about that, and decides that it was nonsense. He didn’t like the water. And they were right next to a stream. He didn’t like people, for they always judged too much. He didn’t like the way Renjun casually tells him to get over his fear as if it was easy. And he  _ really _ doesn’t like Renjun’s weird stare. As if the boy could see past his soul and into his thoughts. 

Considering that he didn’t like these things, Jaemin only has plans to stay for the night. 

“So Sunra High, right?” Renjun asks, “What’s that like?” 

Jaemin doesn’t exactly know how to answer that. He hadn’t  _ actually _ paid attention to anything that goes on during the day, “Um,” He begins, “I’m not really sure. I don’t really participate in anything.”

Renjun tilts his head to the side at that, “That’s kind of sad. How about outside of school?”

Jaemin stays quiet at that before admitting, “I don’t...do much outside of school either.”

Renjun parts his lips to speak, “A sad life you’re living, don’t you think?”

“Think?” Jaemin laughs while looking down at his feet, “I  _ know _ it is.”

The next hour or two kind of go on like this. Jaemin finds out that Renjun doesn’t like to talk about himself much, preferring rather to ask Jaemin questions about his life. Questions that he wasn’t used to answering. How his parents were. What his school friends were like. If he had a favorite band right now. Jaemin answers, but it felt strange since he wasn’t used to talking to people for this amount of time. 

Usually, his conversations with others consists of him closing up and only answering one or two word responses. However, Renjun didn’t settle for that. Whenever Jaemin responds with a short answer, the white haired boy would urge at him and verbally poke at the man until he would expand a bit more. 

And so Jaemin talked, figuring that this stranger would not be around to judge him anyways by the end of their time together tonight, and it was strange. To go into depth on why he liked tofu soup as much as he did. Or how he’s never seen the ocean before and never plans to. 

Jaemin tries to ask Renjun questions also. Where did the boy live? What he did for fun. His favorite food. The likes of that. Renjun just shrugs them off, and Jaemin furrows his brows. He wants to call the boy out on being a hypocrite, but he never gets the chance to, for Renjun barely gives him a chance to breathe before asking more questions. 

The only way Jaemin could get Renjun to talk was if the topic was not specific to Renjun’s life as a whole. This meant that Jaemin could talk about philosophy, or theory, and it would get the boy to speak. And that’s how Jaemin finds out that Renjun likes to wonder. He likes to wonder, about the possibilities of life. And death. And everything in between. 

“Do you usually talk to people you just met about what you think is beyond the universe?” Jaemin asks warily.

The boy in question laughs, “What? Would you rather have small talk?” 

“No,” Jaemin admits.

“Then just go with it,” Renjun tsks.

And so he did. If Jaemin had a question on theology, Renjun had an opinion on it. Whether it was the buddhist teachings on how to live for others, or Descartes theory on the path of the human soul. Renjun had things to say. It was at times like this where Jaemin decides that he kind of enjoys the company. Kind of. When he was listening. They had just met, but he couldn’t help but thoroughly enjoy hearing Renjun speak. It wasn’t just the tangents that the boy went on, but also the voice in itself. Pretty. Alluring. Soothing to the ears. 

“I know you have a phobia, but…” Renjun asks, “You still drink water, right?”

Jaemin blinks at the boy, wondering if that was a serious question, “Renjun, do you understand how life works? Of course, I drink water.”

“Oh, right,” Renjun parts his mouth to speak and then closes it again. 

When the night ended, Renjun was not the one who initiated they leave. It was Jaemin who finally stood up from his spot on the forest floor and stretched his legs. It was at least 2 in the morning, and he knew he needed to go back home. At this rate, once he gets home, he’d be so exhausted that he might just fall straight into deep sleep and skip the nightmares altogether. Suddenly, he was somewhat grateful for the hours of conversation and company spent with this stranger tonight. He says somewhat because he found Renjun a little strange and a little rude, but he figures that he wasn’t one to talk. Jaemin still stands far from the river bank, but he then proposes he should go. 

“Aren’t you tired?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun purses his lips and shakes his head  _ no _ , “I’m not.” 

Jaemin rubbed his tired face with his hands, “Well, some of us are functioning humans and we get tired. So I think I’ll be heading back.”

Renjun snorts at that comment but nods, “Alright, I’ll see you next time, Na Jaemin.”

The person in question gave Renjun a interesting look, “Next time?”

Renjun nods, “You’ll come back.”

Jaemin gives him a curious half grin, “I don’t know about that. I can’t say I liked your company very much.”

Renjun gives him a lopsided grin at the honesty, “Yours isn’t anything special either, Jaemin. But I say again, I’ll see you  _ next time _ .”

Jaemin stares at the beautiful white-haired stranger for another minute or so, not understanding why it felt as if Renjun was right and also not understanding why a feeling of allure accompanied the smaller, but he then chuckles to himself slightly. Before turning around to leave. 

And when he gets out of the thicket of trees, he turns around. And right there on the stream’s edge, Renjun still sat there, looking out on the stream as if waiting for someone. His white hair shone illustriously in the moonlight, and Jaemin had to force himself to look away. What a pretty stranger. 

What a pretty stranger, indeed. 

  
  
  


The next time didn’t come until a week later, when once again, Yeosan was enveloped in the similar night sky that Jaemin was so used to. He hadn’t planned on coming back to the stream at all after that night he left. As intriguing and curious the stranger by the name of Renjun was, it was not really enough to have come back to that stream. The stream that did not leave a good feeling in his body at all. And so for the week or so afterwards, Jaemin took his normal paths during his night walks. And on these walks, he thought. 

The monochromatic happenings of each day. He had fallen into such a routine that when he wakes up in the morning and starts a day, he felt as if he already knew the end of it too. And everything in between, before it happens. 

He was going to wake up, and prepare himself for class. Sitting at the breakfast table, possibly eating what his parents prepared, possibly just grabbing a piece of fruit, he’d sit across from his mother and father, who’d tread their words carefully as they asked him how he’s been. He would answer them ‘i’m fine’ and then head off to school, where for the rest of the day, he’d try to stay in the shadows as best as he could. 

He’d brush off the several people who would try to confront him and try their hand at making the elusive, handsome Na Jaemin reveal his secrets, as if he was some challenge. He’d exchange a couple words or so with Jeno and Mark, who’d spend most of the lunch periods talking to each other anyways to make up for the lack of words from Jaemin himself. 

And then, he’d spend the rest of the evening in his room, doing what seemed to be mundane activities like working out to stay in shape, reading a book, or laying in his bed thinking until night falls and he allows himself to go out. 

And then, he would walk the same paths, the same twists and turns, the same distance along the forest line, and then turn back before he lets himself venture too far. 

And when he got home, a flash or two of nightmares would play in his mind until ultimately he fell asleep. Limbs flailing. The roar of water. A scream. And then sleep. 

And when Jaemin woke up, he did it all over again. Over time, it felt as if he was stuck repeating the same day over and over again. The same conversations. He hears the same whispers in the hallways. The same flashbacks. The same feeling of dread when he walks around the courtyard instead of straight through it like normal students. The same walking paths. The same everything. 

Sometimes he wondered. He wondered how he got to this point. How one little fear from his childhood have manifested its way into every aspect of Na Jaemin’s life. He had gone to therapists before, but the extent of their help were drugs that made him have worse nightmares and the same questions over and over again at each session.  _ ‘How does this make you feel?’ _ as they hold up a picture. ‘ _ Are you doing better today?’ _ They ask. “ _ I think we need to raise your prescription _ ,’ they’d suggest. After a while of it never working, his parents had taken him off therapy and found that the best way to get their son back to normal was to never mention the incident, in hopes that over time, Jaemin would forget. 

He was now 18, and although he had successfully forgotten what happened through forced suppression, he could not shake off the effects that stuck to him to this day. The dread when he is too near a body of water. The anxiety that creeps within his skin. His arms go numb up until his elbows, and his heart begins beating fast. His lungs feel compressed until it felt squeezed so tightly that he couldn’t seem to breathe. And then the shaking started, beginning at his hands and working its way across his body until his eyes felt paralyzed in his skull. 

It was a Thursday night, and he was thinking about that, as he often does. As he walks through Yeosan, and arrives at the treeline, he thinks about how he had gotten this deep into his psychology to the point where his life had turned into this monotonous cycle of events. A pair of knee-length shorts adorned his torso and a simple gray t-shirt hugged his upper body as he kicks the grass running along the forest line. 

It was a particularly cool night, indicative of the incoming autumn weather. The leaves had not changed their colors yet, but everyone in Yeosan can feel the slowly creeping wind. He looks to his right, past the plain, where the edge of the suburbs were. So quiet. He sees the headlights of a car once or twice, but other than that, quietness. On his left, the forest sang its songs: crickets chirping, leaves rustling, branches crackling under the limbs of nocturnal animals. 

As he reaches the area where he’d usually be turning around to go back, Jaemin stopped. 

The moon was still particularly bright tonight, even though it was in the middle of its waning gibbous phase, it still shone brilliantly amidst the dark blue nights sky. It outlined the clouds that surrounded it, but never covered it up. 

The brilliant whiteness of the pale moonlight suddenly reminded him of Renjun. The stranger with the beautiful white hair and the pink lips and fluttering eyelashes. He thought back to Renjun’s words that night.  _ I’ll see you next time, Na Jaemin _ . He had sounded so sure, so confident that Jaemin was going to be back. Well, it had been a week and he had not stepped foot past where he usually went. Jaemin wonders if the person Renjun was waiting for had come by now. 

Jaemin asks himself if he wanted to prove the stranger right, by coming back. He asked himself if its a good idea. But when he finds his legs feeling as if they were being pulled by themselves in that direction, he just sighs in defeat. He blames it on the repeated cycle of activities he had been reliving throughout the past entire week. It was not anything new in particular, but this week had been particularly unbearable. The static noise of Yeosan during the day was getting to his head. It was like that feeling of being carsick, but he could never make it go away until the sun went down and night fell over the town. 

But he found himself walking further and further along the treeline, until once again, it tapers smaller and smaller. And he could finally see past the trees, half of a football field’s distance into it, and he walked a little further. And now, he could hear the tricking of water. It was less of a tricker and more of a rushing noise, for it had rain a couple days ago and water levels had risen. He feels his heart thumping in his chest, and his palms get a little sweaty. He shakes his head and blinks. 

It wasn’t too late to leave. He could make a move to turn around right now, but when his eyes caught a familiar glimpse of white, he stopped. 

And there he was, just as Jaemin thought him to be, sitting near the water’s edge. Another one of those pretty white flowers in his hands, and back leaned up against the same tree. Those pretty eyes. Renjun plucked the petals off the flower and tossed them in the stream.

Jaemin approached, weaving through the forest, pushing aside the same branches and stepping over the same roots as last time, until he passed underneath a willow tree and entered the thin treeline that bordered the stream. Renjun didn’t hear him from the distance.

Jaemin had made sounds of movement as he approached, and he saw the white haired stranger drop the flower and whip his head around towards the direction of the noises until he caught Jaemin’s eye. Jaemin saw those doe-like eyes stare at him, as if unable to tear the gaze away as Jaemin approached. They looked at him as if they were in awe. 

“So I’m back,” Jaemin simply states, as he steps over a thick root and then sits about two meters away from Renjun again, far from the water’s edge. 

Renjun’s face bursted out in a big smile, one that was quite pretty if Jaemin had to comment, and says smugly, “As I predicted.”

And then Renjun continued, almost mumbling, “Just took you forever.”

Jaemin raised a brow while fidgeting with his finger to distract from the rushing sound of the stream, “Have you been waiting for me?” He laughs a little, “Is waiting on one person not enough?”

Renjun shook his head solemnly at this but with a playful grin at the same time. 

Jaemin looks off past the boy and at the stream ahead. The water level had visibly rose from the rain that poured the days before and it creeped up the muddy bank. He eyed it. He felt if he looked away, it would crawl further up until it reached his feet. He believes that Renjun probably couldn’t believe it. A person like him: tall, broad, looking like he does. And he is completely and utterly afraid of water. 

Jaemin can feel Renjun’s eyes on him as he looks off into the distance, and he speaks up, “The tide is high today.”

Renjun nodded, “A little.”

And as they look at the ebbing water, Jaemin finds his place against a tree a bit further back and slides down to sit with his back leaning on it. They sit in silence together, essentially strangers keeping each other company. Jaemin doesn’t like the sound of the water as it hits the large rocks that flooded the stream, and he cringes internally, palms sweating a little bit but he tries to distract himself by looking away towards Renjun. 

The white haired boy, with curious eyes, asked him then, “So what made you come back?” 

Jaemin thought about the question. What  _ had _ made him come back? It was an odd place and an odd time to be meeting such an odd person, and he can’t pinpoint exactly what draws him to this place and to this person. He tries to deduce it in his head, and the best explanation he could come up with was that maybe he emphasized a bit with Renjun: the loneliness. But aside from that, he didn’t really relate to the boy about much of anything. So why was he as allured as he was? Maybe it was that: the fact that they didn’t relate about much that makes him curious. How would he word this?

Jaemin hesitated, and looks off to the stream again, not actually answering the question, “Let’s be lonely together for another night.” 

Maybe that was all he needed to say, because at that, he had a feeling that Renjun understood. There were things in this world that didn’t really need to be said, but can just be felt. Things like happiness, sadness, love, hate, but also loneliness. It can be heard in the voice, by the way it sounds a little seeking for the company of another. It can be seen in the eyes, by the way they seem void of the spark that makes life worth living. It can be felt in the soul. And between the two of them, Renjun understood the feeling well. 

“Okay,” The white-haired boy says. 

For the next few hours, Jaemin reveals a little more about himself to Renjun. He details about his week, but more importantly, about how everyday felt the same. The same monotonous routine over and over again. It came out easily, which surprised Jaemin, but he figured it was because Renjun was essentially a stranger and he had nothing to lose from telling this boy. And Renjun listens attentively, like he did last time. From his own tree two or so meters away, Renjun listens over the roar of the rumbling stream. He blocks it out in exchange for Jaemin’s voice. The deep voice that spoke so somberly that it almost felt as if someone had squeezed the joy out of Na Jaemin’s life. 

“Every day runs into the next, and I could practically recite my schedule from a month ago if you wanted me to,” Jaemin said, looking at the ground away from the stream. 

Renjun nodded at this, “Well, when’s the last time you deviated from your normal routine?”

Jaemin chuckles, “Last week, when I met you.”

“Really?” Renjun asks, “In that case, maybe you should come here more often.”

“Yeah?” Jaemin asks, not actually considering the suggestion, “And what about that person you’re waiting for?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Renjun says suddenly.

Jaemin still doesn’t get that much information out of Renjun, with the smaller preferring to keep to himself once more. Even as they continue their conversations, at no point does Renjun  _ really _ dive into his life. Aside from his thoughts of philosophy and different comics, Jaemin doesn’t really know much about the other besides what high school he attended. 

The curiosity itched in the back of his brain, but everytime he asked, Renjun found some way to shrug off the questions. And so they stick to the topics that are more universal and applicable to everyone, or topics about Jaemin’s life, which the man himself didn’t find to be interesting enough to talk about. For some reason though, Renjun found it interesting. From the small details such as his middle school detention story to more overriding things like what he did after school, even when the answer was nothing too special. He was not used to talking this much, and at times, it would make him clam up. During these times, Renjun would talk. 

“So are you going to let me help you get over your fear or not?” Renjun asked at one point, after Jaemin tells him how he even steers away from bathtubs. 

Jaemin furrowed his brows, “You asked this a week ago. You’re still on that?”

Renjun shrugged, “I think you should let me.”

“Well, I think you should leave it alone,” Jaemin tells him. And Renjun shuts up about it. For now. 

They go back to talking about mundane sounding things. Like how eerie it was that owls could turn their necks all the way around. Or the like. It seemed small and insignificant for Jaemin, but in reality, it was more conversation than he had in forever. He blames it on the night that he is more open. And the fact that Renjun was somewhat of a consequenceless stranger.

Even as the minutes turn into an hour or two that night, and it was time for him to go back home, Jaemin does so with a feeling of slight content.  _ See you next time _ , Renjun had told him again. And as he walks home, he has a feeling next time will be soon. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Third time, huh?” Renjun comments when Jaemin shows up the next night, “I’m starting to think you like my company.”

Jaemin shakes his head, “Not exactly.”

Once more, Jaemin doesn’t know if he likes or dislikes Renjun’s companionship. The boy was blunt, more so than what he was used to from people. While others would usually sugarcoat things or keep their opinions of him to themselves, Renjun had no fear of expressing them. 

They had only interacted twice prior to night, and Jaemin already had a general idea of who Renjun was. The boy was a bit cold, not revealing much about himself, much to Jaemin’s chagrin. 

But it was alright, because Jaemin was a bit of a cold person himself. Maybe that was why he found it so weird that they kept indulging in each other’s company. Were they both that lonely? Their conversations take them a variety of places, and Jaemin talks a bit more with every day. Still not an absurd amount, but under the masking blanket of the night and the stranger-title of Renjun, who wasn’t so much of a stranger anymore, he talks more than he ever did during the day. 

But no matter what their conversations consisted of, it always popped up at least once: Renjun’s proposition. The smaller was not afraid to tell Jaemin that his refusal to at least  _ try _ to get over his fear was ridiculous. 

“You don’t understand, Renjun,” Jaemin bited back at one point. 

But Renjun just narrows his eyes at the taller and leans his head back against the trunk, “I understand more than you think.”

Jaemin wonders at times like this if he should leave, but before he got the chance to wonder too long, Renjun stood up from his spot. This was the second time Jaemin had seen the boy stand up ever, aside from the first time they met when Jaemin had scared the smaller. Looking at Renjun now, Jaemin noticed that he was even smaller than he looked sitting down. It was cute. 

“Come with me,” Renjun says then suddenly. 

Jaemin looks at him and blinks, “What?”

“Come with me,” Renjun repeats once more. 

This time, Jaemin looks at him incredulously and shakes his head. It was at least 2 in the morning, “No.”

Renjun furrowed his brows, “Why not?”

“Because,” Jaemin explains, “It’s 2 A.M. I should be heading ho-”

“You’ll get nightmares when you try to sleep,” Renjun convinces him, “But if you don’t sleep, then you won’t get nightmares.”

Jaemin just laughs at the boy, “You’re ridiculous.”

“But I’m right,” Renjun counters, “So come on,” He waves his hand for him to go, “We can hide from the nightmares, you just have to come with me.”

Jaemin gets up off the ground, suddenly noticeably taller than Renjun, and folds his arms with the shake of a head, “Where?”

Renjun purses his lips, “Just trust me.” 

“Just  _ trust _ you?” Jaemin asks, “Renjun, I barely know you.”

And then Jaemin says from a sudden realization, “Now that I think about it, I don’t think I even know your last name.”

“Huang,” Renjun says.  _ Huang. Huang Renjun. _ The name. Jaemin found the name so alluring, so tantalizing, for a reason he couldn’t pinpoint. For a second, his mind went blank, like the first time he heard the boy’s voice, no reasoning behind it. 

But Renjun continues, “Now you know my last name. So come with me.”

“What kind of logic is that,” Jaemin asks, clearly not wanting to accompany the boy. 

“Flawless logic,” Renjun says, “Jaemin, I need you to come with me.”

Jaemin simply looks at the boy, unsure of why he was so adamant. There was a sense of need in his voice, and pleading in his eyes. This near-stranger that he had met just once prior, asking him to come along as if they were long time friends and that this shouldn’t be a big deal. Na Jaemin looks through the forest, and in the direction of the Yeosan suburbs. He couldn’t actually see them from this distance, but it’s the gesture that counts. His parents were dead asleep, he knew this. A firetruck coming through the neighborhood at 3 in the morning couldn’t even wake them. On one hand, he was curious. But on the other, he found Renjun a bit odd, like himself, and wouldn’t be surprised if he’s led deep into the woods never to return. 

Giving up, he takes the chance. 

“Fine, but  _ only if _ ,” Jaemin makes one condition, “you start telling me more about you.”

Renjun opens his mouth, then closes it. He thinks, and then he opens it again, “You get one question, each time you come with me.”

“Who says we are doing this again?” Jaemin asks with a laugh, “I’m not a people person, you know this.”

“You don’t have to be. Just be a Renjun-person,” The white-haired boy offers with a smile, “And Jaemin, you’ll come back. I have a feeling. Besides, you’ve come for a third night. You’ll come for a fourth.”

Jaemin stares at him for a moment then shakes his head, “You have a feeling.” He accused. 

Renjun just smiles, “I do.”

So Jaemin follows him. There was no clear path, but Renjun still seemed to know his way around. Strange, because it was an oddly specific route through the woods, weaving in and out amongst trees. It was dark, for the canopy of the woods draped overhead, blocking out the moonlight. But Jaemin could still follow behind Renjun just by eyeing the head of unmistakable white hair. Jaemin asks Renjun where they were going once more, but the smaller does not reply. Instead, he leads Jaemin deeper into the woods. 

Ultimately though, they found themselves at the opposite side of Yeosan, past the trees and into the opposite end. From there, in front of them were all plains, since this was far beyond the city limits. Behind him were the woods they just exited, but right in  _ front _ of them, creating a border between the opposite treeline and the rolling hills was a wide creek. Jaemin stopped as soon as he saw it and looked at Renjun, who looked back almost apologetically but at the same time, not so much. 

The creek was like the baby of the ‘bodies of water’ category. An infant couldn’t get hurt in this creek, for the bed of the creek was just smooth round pebbles. The water was so shallow that he swore there were puddles deeper than it. The water came up to the ankles at most, and flowed very slowly. Under the moonlight, it looked like liquid crystals. Beyond the creek was the beginning of the plains. There was even a sleeping buffalo or two. 

Renjun took his shoes off and set them aside. He then waded into the creek, proving that the water does not reach higher than his ankles at any point. Jaemin stares at the water. Was the creek that shallow? He was still nervous, feeling a little pathetic himself. Rationally, he knew nothing would happen to him. He couldn’t get hurt if he tried. But just staring at it now, Jaemin felt his palms getting sweaty once more and his breath hitch in the back of his throat. 

Renjun turns and looks at him, speaking up, “Baby steps, Jaemin. Come in.”

Jaemin, seemingly in a trance because of the water, at the sound of Renjun’s voice, snaps out of it and he looks up into the bright brown eyes of the smaller, who stared at him curiously. 

Jaemin speaks, “I shouldn’t have trusted you.”

If Renjun was hurt by that, he only let it flash across his face for a second before it became serious and dedicated again, “Jaemin, it’s just a creek.”

Na Jaemin ignores that and he shakes his head, “Once you take me back, don’t count on me to show up again.” He says bitterly and turns his back towards Renjun.

But Renjun stops him and takes a step forward in the creek, “I’m not taking you back.”

Jaemin looks at him over his shoulder and moves his body back around, “What?”

Renjun’s voice sounded hesitant but he stood firm, “I’m not taking you back until you at least come in. And after that,” Renjun goes quiet, “You can do whatever you want. You don’t have to come back. We’re just…” Renjun purses his lips, “strangers, after all.”

“That’s right. We  _ are _ strangers,” Jaemin firmly speaks, “which is why you have no right to try to change m-”

“Then who does?” Renjun asks, eyes hiding from Jaemin, but mentality still rooted in his stance, “Everyone’s a stranger to you, Jaemin, from what I’m hearing. You don’t let yourself get close to anyone, so who  _ does _ have the right to try and help you? No one?” Renjun looks up at him now.

Jaemin is silent, but he is furious. Renjun had overstepped his boundaries, and Jaemin wished he had just gone home. 

“Renjun,” Jaemin says in a voice so low, it almost scared Renjun, “My phobia is not a  _ phase _ . It’s not something you can make light of. This is something I’ve lived with,” Jaemin emphasizes the next number, “for  _ nine  _ years. Nine years, seven months, three days. I remember how long it’s been, yet I don’t even  _ remember _ what happened that day, because I force myself to forget. That’s how bad it was, Renjun,” He tries to make it as clear as possible, “I do not need you to make light of my m-”

“I’m not making light of anything, Jaemin,” Renjun furrows his brows and now steps out of the water, stepping up until he was only a meter away, “I know it’s not easy. I never said it was,” Renjun implores, trying to make the taller understand, “That’s why we’re here. That’s why we’re at this creek. It’s baby steps.” Renjun nods to Jaemin, “It’s about making baby steps.”

“Renjun,” Jaemin closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I  _ can’t _ .”

The smaller looks at Jaemin with imploring eyes and then asks one question, “Try.”

And Jaemin stares back at him. There was something in those brown eyes that felt full of depth, he noticed. For no particular reason, he felt an inclination to fall for the boy’s trap. Something about Renjun sparked up more than what meets the eye, and Jaemin wonders how many people Renjun had convinced to follow his every beck and call using those eyes. 

Jaemin stares off into the plain beyond the creek and then back at the forests behind the two of them. He knew he couldn’t find his way back if he tried. It was as if Renjun knew that Jaemin would try to run away, for the entire time they had walked through the woods, the smaller was weaving in and out of paths as if trying to confuse the taller. 

It felt like he had no choice, and that scared him. Jaemin felt his palms sweat and the back of his neck heat up. He could feel it coming. It starts with the hands. The palms begin numbing, and a tingling sensation goes up to his elbow where it stops. He knows what is coming and he looks around frantically.  _ Fuck _ , not here. Not now. Then, his lungs seem to constrict and it suddenly is hard to breathe. He begins releasing shorter breaths, looking off to the side. 

Renjun notices this, and steps closer, trying to look Jaemin in the eye. It kept darting around. The smaller looked down towards the taller’s palm. Clampy. 

Na Jaemin feels trapped, and suddenly, he wanted to collapse. Yet he stood still, senses getting diluted. He hated Renjun. All he knew was that he hated this son of a bitch. His ears were ringing, sight felt frantic, and the tingling sensation in his arm continued as his chest also continues to feel more tight. Everything feels loud, and he doesn’t know what to do. It was like a million noises overwhleming his head. Sensory overload, and everything felt too much. And then.

“Na Jaemin,” He hears a pretty voice, so soothing that it penetrated his mind somehow, “Listen to me.”

Jaemin hears that sound somewhere in his compromised brain and he latches onto it. In the dark cavity of his head, he latches onto the voice. He is barely able to recognize anything at the moment in the dark space that was his head, but he could recognize that voice. And then he feels the flashbacks, and he winces externally. The water. The tree branch. Screaming. The screams felt so unfamiliar to him even though he knew they were his own. He blames it on being so disconnected that everything felt blurred together. He sees rocks, so many of them. And then red. His senses were becoming overloaded again, and everything was running together in his mind. And then.

“Jaemin, isn’t the moonlight pretty?” He hears a voice. It was such a soft voice. A voice within the sudden darkness that he could hear. Usually, it was just himself. Just his own thoughts sabotaging itself, but he hears the pretty voice and he wants to follow it. The moonlight. Although his vision control felt like only half of what it usually was, he looked up towards the moon. So bright. His chest still felt constricted and his palms were shaking. 

“Follow me,” The voice says, “Follow me, and follow my voice. The weather is perfect tonight, isn’t?”

Jaemin listens and he clutches onto that voice. What a soothing sound. It spoke like it would take him to a place where the skies were blue and the fields were green. He latches onto the voice, waiting for it to sound again. 

“It’s not too cold,” It whispered, “And the sky is clear. So we can see the stars.”

Na Jaemin looks up and he sees the stars. They were pretty. The restricted feeling in his chest was loosening up a bit, but he was still terrified. He searches for the voice again in his head. It pushed away the flashbacks and protected him. Renjun’s voice kept speaking, and the more he spoke, softly and quietly to Jaemin, the more control that the man regained in his body. Slowly but surely, he begins to regain feeling. His arms stop the tingling, starting from the elbows and working downwards until he could feel his fingertips again. He could breathe once more, pace going back to normal. His heart rate was still high, but Renjun continues to whisper distracting words to him, and it goes down little by little. 

Finally, when Jaemin completely calms himself, he looks back down again, and stares at Renjun. The white-haired boy had a look of visible concern on his face, but now flooded with relief. They stood just two feet apart, and for some reason, as much as Jaemin wanted to hate Renjun right now, he was more in complete and utter belief than anything. 

That had never happened before. Usually, when he had panic attacks, no voice in the world, no person, no drug, nothing in the world could make it go away like this. He had to wait it out, huddled in some corner palming his shaking hands and trying hard to breathe through his constricted lungs. 

Huang Renjun was nothing more to him than a stranger, but within minutes, he had done something for Jaemin that his closest family and friends could have never done. He stares at the boy with eyes wide in shock as Renjun waits for him to notice. Na Jaemin was speechless, truly speechless and he was not sure whether to blow up at the smaller or be indebted to Renjun. How had he done it. How the fuck had he done it. He didn’t know what to say. 

“Renjun, how did you..” He began. 

But Renjun interrupted and told him one word, “Look.”

And then Renjun looked down towards their feet. Jaemin, at the sudden request, does the same and he felt as if his soul had left his body. Somehow, sometime, during the panic he had just experienced, he had ended up in the stream. The water came up to his ankle, soaking his shoes. He had been in such shock that he hadn’t even felt it before.

_ Follow me _ , the voice had said. Renjun’s voice. He had subconsciously followed Renjun right into the middle of the stream, and now, he was completely conscious and staring at his feet in further shock. 

It was cold. The water was cold. His damp socks didn’t make it any better. The gently flowing creek tickled his ankles as it moved past. He could feel the uneven bed of pebbles underneath his shoes. It was cold. 

But he was okay. He was  _ okay _ . 

He looks back up at Renjun, who stared at him with hopeful eyes as if waiting for an answer, and he could barely mutter anything, “I’m okay.” It felt more like he was trying to tell himself this. 

Renjun laughed with joy and he nodded his head repeatedly, “You are! You’re okay. Jaemin, you’re okay.”

“I’m…” Jaemin spoke out loud to himself, “okay…”

Renjun let out a hollar and he jumped in place, splashing water everywhere.

And Jaemin stood like that for a while, not daring to move. He didn’t care that his socks were wet. He stood there in shock as Renjun celebrated the success of their first step. This white-haired  _ stranger _ just fucking did this. 

When he spoke again, Jaemin’s voice came out shocked still, “Renjun, you overstepped your boundaries.”

The smaller stopped and looked up at the man, pursing his lips and thinking. He nodded, agreeing with what Jaemin had said, but he offers these words instead, “I did. But,” He paused, “Aren’t you glad I did?”

Was he? Was he glad? Jaemin looks at the pretty boy in front of him, and still wonders how in the world he did it. 

“This is just a creek,” Jaemin looks down at his feet, “It’s just...a creek.” It wasn’t much. It wasn’t anything huge. He thought of a body of water and he still felt the terrified shivers. Even as he stands here now, he was not completely comfortable.

Renjun nodded, “It is. But we’ll keep working on it, Jaemin. See? You  _ can  _ do this,” He says but then looks to the side and bit his lip, “That is, if you choose to come back. I know you said you wouldn’t.” At the last statement, Renjun looks away. 

The man didn’t answer, but instead, let’s a small silence fill the void. 

And then Jaemin asks, “How did you do it?”

Renjun opens his mouth, then pauses, wondering if he knew how himself. And then he shook his head, “I don’t know.”

Jaemin nods at this. He wasn’t expecting an actual answer anyways. How could anyone have known? Jaemin stands there shocked for who knows how long. He could not fathom what happened. His subconscious had latched onto Renjun’s voice. Renjun. A  _ stranger _ . 

“Well,” Renjun suddenly asks, “Aren’t you going to take off your shoes?”

Jaemin looked at him and then down at his feet. Still clothed. His breath hitched and he wonders if he should. And then he looks over at Renjun, who had expectant eyes. And then back down at his feet, before slowly, he reaches down and slides his feet out of the shoes and throws them on the bank. Now, his bare feet was resting on the smooth pebbles of the creek bed. He could feel the slow current on his bare skin, and he felt his hands go tingling again. His hands tingle and his heart began beating a bit faster in his chest. 

But then, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and distracts himself by looking at Renjun. 

The white-haired boy looks at him with big eyes, as if waiting for him to say something. 

But instead, Jaemin kicks his feet in the water and throws it all over Renjun. 

The boy yelped and stepped back. Jaemin laughed and told him straight to his face, “I don’t like you, Renjun. I hope you know that.” And then he kicked up more water. 

This time, Renjun kicked back, “That’s not what your...” He says with a kick, “...subconscious said.”

Na Jaemin just shakes his head and then chases after the smaller. 

It was about an hour later that they decided to head back, and the walk was more straight forward this time. No weaving and twisting, which Jaemin was thankful for. He walked alongside Renjun, and indulged in conversation. He had to walk in damp shoes, which felt horrible, but he was still overcoming the shock of being able to walk in that shallow creek in the first place. He had so many questions, and then he remembered something. He had a question. He was given one question by Renjun in exchange for coming with him. 

And then Jaemin asks, “So now I get a question, right?”

Renjun had seemed to have forgotten about it, but then scrunched up his nose at the mention, “Sure.”

Jaemin thinks about what he wanted to ask, “Why do you wait every night for that person?”

Renjun knew it would be a question like this and he sighed. Jaemin didn’t care. He waited for an answer to the question he was promised. 

The smaller looked over to him and answered somewhat truthfully, “I need closure. Before I am able to move on.” 

“Move on?” Jaemin asks, “So you were with this person?”

“You only get one question, Jaemin. One,” Renjun answers and then shuts down the conversation. Jaemin could tell this was something the smaller didn’t want to talk about, but he was still curious. But he pushes it away for now, reminding himself to ask another day. 

They keep walking until the stream is within their vision again. Jaemin feels the clampering of his hands again.  _ Ah, there it is _ . The sweet, familiar feeling of fear. It was still there, even if he had made some progress tonight. He turns to walk away. 

Renjun kept going forward, but upon seeing that Jaemin had split, turned to look at the man, “Where are you going?”

Jaemin looked at the white-haired boy and then back towards Yeosan’s direction, and then back at Renjun again, “It’s 4 in the morning, Renjun. We’ve chased the nightmares away.” He laughs, “But I need to go home now.”

Renjun then notices the moon’s position in the sky, “Oh, right.” As if he only now notices how late it had gotten, “Will I see you again?”

Renjun thought back to what Jaemin had said earlier. About how he would not be coming back here after they returned to the stream. That time, it sounded serious. He waits for Jaemin’s answer. 

Jaemin stands there, arms folded. The action made his body look wider, bigger, more handsome. He teeters on his heel but looks at the pretty stranger. Renjun’s eyes were searching for an answer, he could tell. 

But Jaemin would not give him one. Not tonight. And so without replying to the question, Jaemin just responds, “Goodnight, Renjun.” 

And turns his body to leave. 

Renjun was an enigma, one that he was slightly afraid of and slightly intrigued with. The boy had just met him for the first time not too long ago, yet the two had managed to have more conversation in the brief time spent with each other than Jaemin had with another person in what seemed like years. It was odd, how he could talk to Renjun this easily. He believes it’s because of the night. It made everything feel as if it won’t matter come morning. Not only that, but Renjun had done something for him that no one had ever been able to do before: calm him down in a panic. Get him in water. Actually  _ in _ water. Looking back on it now, he was not sure if he would be able to do that again. He looks back in the slowly disappearing forestline behind him. And then he figures: he’ll never know if he could, if he doesn’t come back. 

  
  
  


“You’re back.”

Renjun looks at him with wide eyes, dropping the pretty flower he had been playing with on the ground. Jaemin eyes it. That was the fourth right now that he has seen the boy do this. He wonders if Renjun had a thing for botany. It was the next night, and Jaemin had battled it out in his head all day. 

During school, when he was barely paying attention to the lesson, he had been arguing with himself in his head. During lunch, rather than involving himself in Jeno and Mark’s conversations, he keeps to himself thinking. And after school, he had passed out on the bed in exhaustion from not getting much sleep, and after the round of flashbacks that came back like clockwork at this point, he thinks. Thinks about what had happened the previous night. Had it all been a dream? Had he really come down from a panic attack? Had he  _ really _ stepped in that stream? 

It felt like a dream, because that didn’t seem possible looking back in hindsight. He had been fucking terrified of water for over  _ nine _ years. And then this random kid that he met not too long ago is able to calm him down and get him to step inside of a creek in a little over a couple minutes? It didn’t seem possible, and so he thought about it. Who  _ was _ Renjun. And how the hell was he able to do that. 

As if he needed to convince himself that the previous night hadn’t been a dream, Na Jaemin finds himself continuing past where his daily trail usually ended. He walked past the thick forest, and into where the treeline taped, and then through the oak trees until he ends up at the stream again, spotting the white-haired boy from far away. 

His palms twitched at the sight of the flowing stream, tide still high with rainwater. 

But he turned his attention on the smaller boy, who looked up at him with surprised eyes. Pleasantly surprised eyes. 

Jaemin sat back against the tree, once more a couple meters away from Renjun, and shrugged at the comment. 

Renjun lets out a grin then, “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Oh I still am,” Jaemin chided, “I’m just here because I was scared you’d be too lonely without me.”

“Oh yeah?” Renjun rolls his eyes, “What a saint.”

Jaemin chuckles at this. And then they go into that routine again, of talking for a while. Yet it didn’t really feel like a routine, because everything they talked about felt new to Jaemin. He wasn’t used to having extensive conversations with people, so it felt strange. He was not quite sure yet if it was an inviting kind of strange or a terrifying one. 

Jaemin lives without knowing much about Renjun’s personal life. But he still suffices, for although Renjun didn’t talk about himself much, he makes up for it by talking a lot about his thoughts. His thoughts on marriage. His thoughts on favorite seasons. His thoughts on Jaemin’s plain black hair. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Jaemin asked defensively. 

Renjun tilts his head to look at it some more, “Nothing. You just wear a lot of black: black hair, black shirt, black shoes. It’s really indicative of your personality.”

Jaemin narrows his eyes like that, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What do you  _ think _ it means?”

Jaemin just shakes his head and snorts, “How do you even get your hair to be that white anyways? The first time I saw you, I got scared. I thought you were a ghost.”

Renjun laughs at this, “It must have been the all white outfit.” 

Jaemin hums, “You like that color?”

“I do,” Renjun responds, “Reminds me of the moon. I love the night.”

And at that, Jaemin stares up at the sky and agrees, “I do too.”

That night, Renjun asks Jaemin to trust him again. Trust him again, and follow him to a place that they could be lonely together for another night, in each other’s company. Jaemin thought back to yesterday, and how he had ended up when he  _ did _ trust Renjun. He had ended up in a creek, an actual creek. He was still bitter about that. He could have gone without the experience, but at the same time, the fact that he could do it  _ stunned  _ him. And gave him a sense of hope that he hasn’t had in so long.

And then he thinks that maybe, just maybe, there was a reason why he felt so inclined to trust the smaller. He had calmed him down for a panic attack, and then convinced him to play in the creek. 

But tonight, he hesitates when Renjun asks. 

“You’re not upping the antics, are you?” Jaemin asks hesitantly. 

To that, Renjun shook his head  _ no _ , and just tells him, “Trust me.”

Jaemin pauses. Trusts Renjun? He didn’t think so. But he’ll go along with it anyways, “I get one more question then.”

Renjun parts his mouth to protest but then closes them, “Fine.”

Renjun ended up upping the antics anyways, and Jaemin should have known. Today, the white-haired boy led him to a rocky area on the northern end of Yeosan, past the trees. He hated it the moment he saw it. It was a natural rock slide, sloped only slightly, and had a very thin trickle of water running down the slope, fanning out widely. The water level was even more thin than yesterday, yet today, it was at an incline and at the bottom was a small plunge pool. 

“How deep is that?” Jaemin asked nervously, head gesturing down to the plunge pool.

Renjun looked over from the side and estimated, “Not that deep. When you slide in, it’ll only come up to your knees once you stand up.”

“ _ When _ I slide in?” Jaemin asked, “Who said I was?”

“Jaemin,” Renjun says looking over at him, “You came here tonight for a reason, didn’t you?”

Jaemin just looked at him and then turned his head away. He wasn’t sure if he could muster up the same energy as he did last night; however, something about knowing that if he were to fail, Renjun had the ability to help him, made him a little bit more brave. However, he was still hesitant. Years and years worth of deeply engrained fear did not just go away within a fortnight. Just looking at the natural slip and slide made his palm sweat a bit even though he knew rationally that he couldn’t drown. But that was the thing about fears. They were  _ irrational _ . 

He looked at it now, and all he wanted to do was run away. It was pathetic, but it was almost a natural instinct of his now. Renjun, having noticed Jaemin’s slip into his thoughts, blocks the man’s view of the formation and snaps him out of it. Jaemin saw Renjun’s hands about to come up to take ahold of his shoulders, but then they stopped midway and dropped to their sides. His gaze turned towards the smaller, who looked slightly concerned but masked it so that Jaemin wouldn’t panic too. 

“You can do this,” Renjun says, as he makes his way up the slope near the top of the smoothed rock. 

Jaemin finds himself following but he is shaking his head, “I can’t. Renjun, there’s a difference between yesterday and today. Yesterday, at least the ground was even. Today, it’s  _ sloped _ . I’ll have no control of my body.”

“So?” Renjun asked, “Sure, you’ll have no control. But when you make it to the end and realize you’re alright, then you’ll understand there was no big deal in the first place.”

They stand at a dry place near the top, just a foot from them was where the natural waterslide began. Jaemin looked at it and turned away, shaking his head, “I’m not doing this.”

“You are,” Renjun says. 

Jaemin turns around to give him a look, “Excuse me?”

“Yes, because after that last night,” Renjun speaks, “You actually have hope now that this can be fixed. That you can get better. That’s why you’re here, right?” He looked at it now, and all he wanted to do was run away. It was pathetic but it was almost a neutral instinct of his now. 

Jaemin looks at him, knowing he was right, “But ye-”

“No buts,” Renjun firmly says, “Don’t think too hard about it, Jaemin. Just do it. Sometimes, you just need to go in headfirst.”

Jaemin mutters to himself, but then decides that he hates Renjun, and he hates that he was right. If he thought about it too much, then everything will come rushing back in. The flashbacks. The fear. The shaking in his hands. The tingling in his arms. The constriction in his chest. Even now, as he stood there, it took him everything not to run far away. 

But he bit the bullet and told Renjun, “Talk to me.” 

“Huh?” Renjun asks.

“Talk to me,” Jaemin repeats, “While I do this. Make me forget what I’m doing, like you did yesterday.”

At this, Renjun purses his lips. He understands. 

And so Renjun talks to him. It was not awkward or forced. It just felt like a continuation of conversations that they been having. About life and death. About philosophy and general likes and dislikes. 

Jaemin listens and he feels his body calm down a little, even though that sickening feeling was still in his stomach. 

He takes off his shirt. And tosses it over in the dry ground to the side. Renjun suddenly stops speaking, and Jaemin notices. The two of them both suddenly got a little timid. Renjun because his eyes were resting on Jaemin’s surprisingly toned torso. And Jaemin because he had never exposed this much of himself to someone before. This would probably be the first time that someone outside of his family has seen him without a shirt. 

He walked around like this around the house on a hot day or so, but never did it extend pass that. But now, with this white-haired stranger suddenly gaping at his body, Jaemin feels a little shy. He thought he looked okay. He works out in his room every day, hoping that the endorphins released clears his mind of any negative thoughts, so he had a relatively built body. 

Renjun continues talking, completely ignoring the obvious pause in between them just now. And Jaemin takes that as an okay to get out of his pants too. He didn’t want it to be like yesterday when his entire body was clothed in damp clothing all the way home. It was uncomfortable physically and mentally. When he was stripped down to just his undergarments, he lowered himself to a sitting position. The water was immediately cold to the touch and he shivered. He closed his eyes and listened to Renjun’s voice.  _ -and the dog started barking at me. I didn’t even do anything.  _ He laughs at the story and takes a deep breath, his fingers felt like they were about to numb. But maybe that was a blessing in disguise, because unable to feel his entire body, he lets go of the grip on the rock, and pushes his body forward. The rock was more of a huge boulder, with one smooth sloped side from years and years of water erosion, so that it acted like a natural waterslide. It seemed childish, but to Jaemin, it was a big step. 

Because going down, he lost control of his body. And his mind wanted to go blank. And for moments there, it did. His mind went blank and he needed something to hold onto. However, the sides were slippery and it felt hopeless. He squeezed himself and the flashes came in second intervals.  _ Screaming. That familiar but such unfamiliar sound. The crashing. Water. The roaring.  _ It happened in seconds. But in his mind, it felt like hours. He panicked, terrified of the loss of control. He gripped onto the slide, but its slipperiness showed no mercy. 

But then, before he knew it, he hit the bottom and the came in with a slight splash. A small pool, not even a foot in height, enveloped his body. And Jaemin squeezed his eyes shut, holding himself. His head was tucked into his hands and his body was entirely clenched even though he was sitting at the bottom. His fingertips felt numb. His shoulders were shaking. 

And then he heard, from behind him at the top, “Jaemin.”

That voice. The voice that was so soothing that it allowed Jaemin to relax crept into his head. What a pretty sound. He sees it in his head, and his subconscious reaches out to it. And Jaemin slowly, surely but slowly, lifted his head out of his hands. And then, he opened his eyes and looked around. He was sitting in the pool, the water barely going up to his waist, and when he stood up, it was just up to his knees. The entire way down, he had no control of his body. Yet here he was, still alive and still breathing. He was okay. 

Jaemin mumbled under his breath as he looked around, “I’m okay…”

Renjun just watched him from above, and Jaemin turned his head to meet the boy’s eye, “I’m okay.” He said again, but louder. 

Renjun had a wide smile on his face as he nodded enthusiastically, “You are, you’re okay, Jaemin.”

Jaemin looked around him, and felt a crack in his chest. He shook his head and stepped out of the pool and onto the dry rock on the sides, and although his legs still felt a little shaky, he climbed his way back up the slope on the sides until he reached Renjun again. 

“Aren’t you going down?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun, having his arms gently crossed across his torso, shakes his head, “Oh, I am.”

And then, the boy makes slow steps towards the middle, making sure he doesn’t slip, and then gets down to a sitting position.

“You’re not going to take off your clothes?” Jaemin asked, noticing the boy was still fully clothed. 

Huang Renjun looked at him suddenly with wide eyes and then paused, pursing his lips, “No, I don’t mind wet clothes.”

Jaemin furrowed his brows at that, but before he could make a comment, Renjun pushed himself off. When he reached the bottom, he let out a whoop and Jaemin couldn’t help but smile. He doesn’t remember the last time he really smiled like this, but here he was: smiling. 

They go like that for a while, and each time, Jaemin gets a bigger and bigger surge of confidence, and his nervousness goes down a little bit more. And anytime it looked as if he got too anxious over what they were doing, Renjun would pipe up and ask him irrelevant questions, trying to get Jaemin to think about anything else other than what they were doing. And so he progressed. 

Later into the deep night, they sit on the side of the rock slide, over where it was dry and bathed in the moonlight. Jaemin with nothing but his undergarments on, and Renjun in soaking wet clothes. If only the moon had the ability to dry. They sat there for a while, talking while Jaemin grabbed a pear from a nearby fruit tree to munch on.

At some point, Renjun had asked Jaemin about why he didn’t like to talk to people. 

“I just don’t understand,” Renjun says, “You have a fear of water, correct? That’s what makes you so weird and jumpy?”

Jaemin narrowed his eyes at the choice of wording, but Renjun didn’t seem to care. 

The boy continued, “So I don’t understand how a fear of water leads to a fear of talking to people.”

Jaemin brushed a small bug off of his leg and shifted his weight, “I’m more afraid of people’s intentions.”

“Oh?”

“And that leads to a fear of talking to them,” He says. 

Renjun waits for him to continue. 

Jaemin looked up to the sky, avoiding glancing at the stream as he tilts his head, “When people talk to me, I know that in the back of their head, they’re wondering why I am the way I am. They’re wondering what’s wrong with me. I can see pity in their tone, and hear the things they say behind my back. I’m like an exotic animal on display.”

He thinks about it some more, “How do I know this?” He laughs gently, “My...situation is all they ever ask me about. It’s almost as if…” Jaemin purses his lips, “...I’m some case study to them. To be used for their romanticized daydreams where I’m the mysterious guy who is only sweet for them. It makes me lose trust,” He pauses, “I feel like I only serve as a fantasy in their minds where they are the one who ‘fixes’ me.” 

And then Jaemin looks over at Renjun, not really caring what he says at the moment, “Kind of like how you are being, if I’m being honest.”

Renjun’s face looked a little hurt at the comment and he turns his eyes away with a small hitch in his breath. The boy shook his head and tried to make Jaemin understand, “I’m not trying to fix you, Jaemin. I’m trying to help you fix yourself.”

Jaemin lets out a low laugh at this and lets out a “Right. Sure.”

It was obviously disbelieving, and Renjun knew it, Jaemin could tell. The taller tries to save it, “But I guess it’s working somewhat, so even if that was the case, how could I complain?”

Renjun didn’t make further comment, but Jaemin could sense the boy turning his head away. Renjun had so far been the most successful out of everyone who attempted to be that person who gets to ‘ _ fix”  _ Na Jaemin, and the man honestly wondered how. He wondered why and how that came to be. Even if he wasn’t referring to the girls who saw him as this romanticized fantasy, the people who he’s known for a long time: his small group of friends, his parents, they all couldn’t do what Renjun have done. Maybe it was the white-haired boy’s voice, so bewitching that he couldn’t help but to listen no matter what state of mind he was in. Maybe it was how Renjun practically threatened him and was not going to take no for an answer. Maybe it was something he couldn’t even put a finger on. 

“Now I get a question, right?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun looks over, “Hm?”

“I get a question, for coming with you for another night,” Jaemin clarified. 

Renjun looks up at him and then nods. 

“How do you know these woods so well?” Jaemin asks, genuinely curious. Renjun seemed to know every crevice from the streams to the creeks to the most minute details that Jaemin, after living in Yeosan for 18 years born and raised, did not know existed. And neither did most of the city’s residents, he was sure. 

“I spend a lot of my time wandering,” Renjun replies. 

“Oh,” Jaemin just figured he had just wasted his question on one that was too simple and cursed to himself, “I was just asking because it doesn’t seem like you ever go home. You could be living out here for all I know.”

Renjun shook his head, “I do have a home.”

“Yeah?” Jaemin asks, wondering if he could nonchalantly slip in another question, “Where?”

Renjun didn’t miss it. He smiled, “One question, Na.”

Well damn, Jaemin thought, it looked like he couldn’t. 

  
  
  
  


Once more, Na Jaemin comes again the next night. He wasn’t planning to, since the previous night he had also stayed out with Renjun to an incredibly late time and ended up sleeping his evening away once he got home from school. It wasn’t as if he had anything else to do; however, the behavior could not have been healthy. Jaemin wonders how Renjun could do this consistently and not look worse for wear. He had laid in bed, having come home from his usual walk, not deviating out of the path, and usually, with that alone, he’d be tired enough to be knocked out within minutes, only sparing a couple moments as he was falling asleep to dream of his nightmares. 

However, it was like that wasn’t enough anymore. As if going on his usual walks didn’t make the cut anymore, and his body craved for him to do something else instead. But regardless, he tried. He closed his eyes, blinking away the sight of the asbestos on his ceiling and tried to make his body recognize its exhaustion. The sheets were hot, and a sticky layer of uncomfortable sweat enveloped his skin. He tore off the blankets and tried to sleep like that, but then that was too cold. The sweat on his skin, from the cold contact, dried like ice. 

It was cold, enveloping, much like something else he trembled at the sight of.  _ Pathetic _ , the humiliation that his fear brought him drove him into a corner. He lays in bed, eyes closed but clenched now, as he reaches out for his blanket again, waiting to get the feeling of  _ cold _ , wet sweat off of his body. It brought back the flashes. He rolled over to his side and brought his legs up, curling his body.  _ The screaming _ . He heard it muffled, as if his mind forced the memory to go away but hints of it still remains. Even then, the screaming felt painful to his ears. The voice.  _ The cold _ .  _ The rocks. A smack _ . 

He wishes Renjun was here. Renjun, who he has seen less than 10 instances. Jaemin sat up in bed suddenly, chest heaving, but he makes quick work. He slides on a black hoodie and slips into some dark pants before sneaking out the house through the back door. He never used the front door because it was located not too far from his parent’s bedrooms. His body was torturing him, like it usually did. It wanted to go to a certain place, for a reason that Jaemin just cannot  _ pinpoint _ . But seeing he had no choice, Jaemin made himself run there. 

“Renjun.”

“Jaemin,” The white-haired boy looked up in a surprise, “I thought you weren’t co-”

“Distract me,” He asks, voice desperate. 

Renjun is cut off by his words, and then stares. He drops the flower he had been twirling on the ground and looks at Jaemin. Sweat on his neck. Chest heaving a bit. Hair messy. Still handsome, but visibly distressed. 

And so he takes it easy.  _ Let’s get away from here _ , Renjun tells him. And Jaemin nodded. He doesn’t trust Renjun, but he trusts Renjun’s methods. So they walk, and the entire time, the smaller talks to him. Calms him down, keeps his mind engaged, and ensures he is focused on the present. 

Tonight, Renjun ends up surprisingly  _ not _ taking Jaemin to another body of water, but instead, they sit on top of a hill that overlooks a grassy plain. 

The grass here grew short, and the plains looked like the gentle waves of the ocean flowing in the nightly autumn wind. It was rolling for a long time to come, and it was a hauntingly beautiful sight. There was something about the scenary that evokes a sense of mysticality and fantasy. On these plains, it almost felt like garden fairies would peek around the corner when the two of them weren’t looking. Fireflies danced here and there in the empty plains. 

Overhead, the moon was not afraid to cast a spell on the earth, putting everything in a trance. They sat on top of it, seeing everything from a great vantage point. They were the kings of the night, and they own the stars and the moon and now the beautiful plains that they sit in. 

Jaemin talks to Renjun, more calm now, about different things, and Renjun listens to them all. It was as if the two of them were the only people in the world that existed at the moment, and something about that made Jaemin more incentivized to talk. Jaemin doesn’t know whether he should continue calling Renjun a stranger or begin thinking of him as a friend. 

Renjun then lays back on the grass, and looks up at the sky. Jaemin follows suit, and instantly, he feels the slight dewiness of the grass. Up in the sky, the moon was bright enough that it highlighted the night clouds covering up the stars. There were so many clouds, and while most people would appreciate them more during the day, Jaemin actually preferred the way clouds looked at night. A little ominous. A little beautiful. 

“We’re not near water today,” Jaemin then noticed, looking at the white-haired boy, whose eyes were still glued on the hazy clouds. 

Renjun shook his head, but stayed quiet for a moment. 

And then he looked over at the taller, “I don’t want you to feel like all I want to do is fix you.”

Jaemin’s lips close at that. And he remembers the conversation they had yesterday. When he had accused the smaller of only wanting to fix him, just like everyone else who had that romanticized fantasy. He hadn’t expected Renjun to take that comment to heart, just judging by the brashness and reckless eccentricity of the boy’s character, 

Yet now here they were, in a pasture far from water, and Jaemin feels grateful. Not tonight. He was not up for testing his limits tonight. Improvements in mental health was never a straight-forward path, where a person consistently gets better and better every day. Jaemin knew this. 

He had gone to enough seminars and support groups coerced by his parents to hear that same monologue over and over again. But never had it felt like it applied to him until now. He wasn’t sure where this journey might take him. But he knew it was not going to be a linear process. No mental struggle ever is, not just his own. It will always be jagged. There will be days where it gets better, and days where it gets worse again. Days where everything feels stagnant, and days where it seems like all effort is a waste. 

He was grateful. Jaemin was grateful that tonight, Renjun doesn’t push it. Tonight, they just lay there on the moonlit pasture, talking as if they were old friends, under the careful blanket of the night. 

He turns over to Renjun, face adorning a small smile, “Consider yourself successful.”

Renjun returns his smile, and Jaemin believes it was as pretty as the moon that shone upon them that night. 

“Something tells me…” Jaemin then says with a light laugh, “that you’re beginning to enjoy my company.”

Huang Renjun shrugs at this with a tiny grin, “It’s acceptable.”

  
  


“Where do you live?” Jaemin’s one question for the night. He asks it as they were walking back, side by side but never touching. No reason to. 

Renjun shoots him a weird look, “Why? Are you going to stalk me?” 

“No,” Jaemin looks at him weird, “I just want to have a general idea. I still don’t really know much about you.”

Renjun nods and then looks at Jaemin, “I stay at my parent’s place most days. But technically, my home is on the corner of 2nd street and the gas station.” 

“That makes no sense,” Jaemin says. 

“It’s just some legal stuff,” Renjun waves it off, “Don’t worry about it. It’s all complicated.”

Jaemin maps it out in his head. He rarely drives over to 2nd street, having no reason to go, but he has an idea of where the location was in proximity to other places. He nods, grateful that he got an answer in the first place.

“Don’t go visiting me, though, I won’t come out,” Renjun comments in a sing-song voice. 

Jaemin laughs, “Why not?”

Renjun looks over to him and smiles slightly, “I don’t know, I kind of like having nighttime be our thing.”

“So we have a thing, now?” Jaemin picks at the comment, with a slight grin on his face. 

Renjun looks up through the tree canopy as they walk back, but ultimately just smiles at the boy, “Not like  _ that _ .”

“I know,” Jaemin chuckles, and then he pauses and repeats, “I know.”

After all, he barely knew the boy. 

  
  


But he grows to. 

Jaemin grows to know Renjun, night by night. His nightly walks take him to the water’s edge where he sits at a distance and talks to Renjun from afar. They were lonely together in a non-lonely way, which made little sense if one thought about it too hard. Renjun, whose white hair only shines brighter by the day and eyes gleam like the water he so dearly loves, continues to be near the stream, waiting on someone who Jaemin could only take empty shots at. Jaemin, who lived a life of solitude, begins to escape here every night. The stream, looking at it, still makes Jaemin sick to the stomach, but he arrives there anyways, eyes always searching for the white-haired boy. The water of that stream poisoned his mind, but the company of that boy was too alluring. And so, he finds himself sneaking out that back porch every night and heading down past where the treeline begins to taper until in the darkness of the night, he indulges in the company of the curious boy. 

When the sky turns dark and Yeosan goes to sleep, the two of them come alive.

When Jaemin says that he grows to know Renjun, he means that he grows to know Renjun’s thoughts, which for the time being, was satisfactory. The mystery of a kid still kept the details of his life to himself, other than the one question that he allowed Jaemin to have each night, and he continues to dodge simple questions about his life. 

However, when it came to non-specific subject areas, Renjun was a world of wonders. And Jaemin finds himself enjoying the boy’s thoughts. Renjun speaks as if he had nothing else to do but think about the world. He has curiosities about whether or not machines will one day be able to fall in love with one another. Or how taxes work in other countries, as boring as they may sound. 

“Why do people believe in religion? When all of the evidence points otherwise” Jaemin asks one night, as his feet were dipped in a shallow tributary that housed dozens of koi fish that swam around their feet. It had taken him a lot of mental effort to even dip his feet inside, but Renjun had been patient with him the entire time, talking to him and making him forget that it was a big step in the right direction. In fact, Renjun had been patient with him for all of the time they had been together so far. As brash and blunt as Renjun was, at the end of the day, when Jaemin was having a hard time trying to jump over the barriers in his mind, Renjun made sure he was slow and steady when helping out. 

Renjun looks up towards the sky and speaks, “Because people want to believe their life has impact, even after they’re gone.”

“What do you mean?” Jaemin asked, twirling his feet around causing ripples. 

“I mean...no one wants to think that when their loved ones die, they’re just gone, you know?” Renjun says, “You want to think that they’re still out there, making sure you’re okay, all of that. It adds more meaning to life.”

Jaemin thinks about it, and he can understand that sentiment. He looks over at Renjun, who was illuminated by the pretty moonlight, and he asks, “Do you believe that?”

Renjun doesn’t hesitate to answer, “I do,” And then he looks over at Jaemin, “And I think you should too.”

Sometimes, their conversations were deep like this. Filled with strange philosophical anecdotes that really only happen in the night like this. And other times, it was more playful. And Jaemin grows to like Renjun’s presence more and more by the night. 

Not just Renjun’s presence, but also the smaller’s adventures. If Jaemin were to say he hated the bodies of water that Renjun took him too, it would be the truth. But if Jaemin were to say he regretted the experiences, that would be a lie. Because night by night, Renjun opens his eyes a little more. Just a little bit more, slowly. And it was not easy. And sometimes, Jaemin squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for the night to pass, and on those nights, Renjun doesn’t push it. They go somewhere else instead. Under a willow, listening to the wind sing and whisper stories about what happens in the forests to two lonely boys at night. Over a prairie, where Renjun would sing him tunes that sent chills down his spine as he listens to the beautiful voice casting over the valley. Or at a small flower field. Renjun likes those, Jaemin noticed. Flowers. He knew a lot about them. Symbolically and literally. He could look at a Petunia and tell Jaemin that petunias symbolized anger and resentment. He could look at a daisy and tell him that it represented innocence and purity. Or just random facts, like where it came from. Or what genus it was. 

Jaemin notices the first night he passes without a nightmare. It was about two or three weeks after they first started meeting consistently, and he had gone home that night, around 3 A.M. after skidding in the forest somewhere with Renjun, expecting to get at least a couple flashes and moments of panic before he’d finally be able to fall asleep. He waits for it. He waited for the screaming, and the rushing of water that he was so used to. But that night, he would get nothing. He would wait, and he would get nothing. And when he wakes up, he could only feel one thing. Completely and utterly stunned. 

“It didn’t come last night,” Jaemin informs Renjun around midnight the next day, “My nightmares.”

Renjun stares up at him with wide eyes, lips parted, “Are you serious?”

They sit now, across from each other. Some logs had fallen across a gentle creek, two feet in depth somewhere in the forest, and created a natural bridge from one end of the creek to the other. They sat on opposite ends and dipped their feet in. Jaemin’s heart still pounded fast when he did things like this, but Renjun took his time to get them both comfortable. And ultimately, it would work after some work and time. 

“Yeah,” Jaemin scratches the back of his neck with a goofy smile, “Renjun, how are you doing this?”

The smaller just shakes his head, “It’s all you. I’m just peer pressuring you.”

“Ah,” Jaemin jokes, “You must be a bully at school.”

At that, Renjun keeps to himself. Once again, at any mention of his personal life, Renjun shuts up. It’s been weeks, and Jaemin still only knew a fraction about Renjun’s personal life compared to what the smaller knew about his. Yet Jaemin gets more and more curious. The more time he spent with the other, the more strange it felt that he didn’t know as many specifics about Renjun. He  _ wanted _ to. But he gets nothing but a question a day in return. 

Of course, the nightmares come again the next night, but the fact that for a shining moment there, he slept straight, gave him enough motivation to live a little more. Not just at night, but during the day. 

That next morning, when he comes down for breakfast, for the first time in years, he doesn’t answer his parents “How are you feeling” with an “I’m fine.” Instead, he tells him that he was feeling a little tired. It was small, but it was something. Jaemin could tell it shocked them, for his parents, used to hearing one monotonous answer for years, had not expected to hear anything that was different. He doesn’t say too much after that, but he tried. He was proud of himself for that at least: for trying. He also takes a step forward in trying in school. Something about the incoming hope he has for himself incites him to be a little bit more brave. Today, he listens in class. And doesn’t drone the teachers out as if they were the nuisance of flies. Even during lunch, where he sat with Jeno and Mark, he listens. He does not say anything, but unlike before, now he listens. If something funny is said, then he’d snicker a little. It was small, but it was something. It was effort. 

But when he puts the  _ most _ effort was at night. Night was when he’d feel a little bit more alive, down there by the stream with Renjun. The stream still made his stomach twist to this day. Something told him that was not going away for a while, but he still comes. He comes because Renjun’s company was something else. 

Tonight was a particularly windy one, and everyone in Yeosan could tell it was going to rain. Not only did the forecast say so, but it was written in the wind. It picked up and blew the leaves off of the autumn trees. The moon up in the sky was blocked out by the dark clouds that covered up the heavens. When night fell, Jaemin found his way back towards the treeline and through the thicket until, like clockwork, he finds Huang Renjun sitting near the stream. 

When the smaller spots him, he seems a little genuinely surprised.

“Jaemin, it’s going to rain tonight,” He says, “Aren’t you a little afraid?”

Jaemin stands there and looks up at the sky. Black. And then he looks back down at Renjun, “A little.”

“And yet, you’re here,” Renjun observes. 

Jaemin chuckles and nods, “And yet, I’m here.”

Still sitting in that position, Renjun then asks, “Why?”

At this, Jaemin purses his lips and thinks about it. He knows why, he figures. But should he tell the kid, that was his question. 

Looking up at Renjun from the fringe of his dark hair, he tells the boy, “I trust you.”

At this, Renjun looked up and their gazes met. For a moment there, it was silence. Only the distant thundering. And then, Renjun picks himself up off the ground and grins, “Let’s go back to the hills.”

“The hills?” Jaemin asks.

Renjun nods, “Yes, when it rains, we’ll want to be there. Trust me.”

And this time, when he asks Jaemin to trust him, he does. 

And so they stay at the hills, rolling for what seemed like forever. Flat ground. The stronger wind tonight made the grass’s ocean wave motion feel stronger. And yet, it was more beautiful. And then they wait. 

“Renjun, do you believe in soulmates?” Jaemin asks as they sit there, waiting for the rain. He was scared, but not as much as he could have been. 

Renjun then looks down and plays with the grass underneath where he sat, “I wouldn’t want to.”

Jaemin looks over at him, “Really? Why so?”

At this, Renjun looks over and tilts his head to the side, “Because it could end up either really amazing or really horrible.”

Jaemin waits for Renjun to explain. 

The smaller continues, “Because if you end up with your soulmate, then that’s great, right? You get a happy ending with the love of your life, someone who's your perfect match. But what if something happened to your soulmate?” And then he shrugged, “What if they’re on another continent? What if they’re dead? Or married? Then the one person that you are meant to be with is gone. What then? Does your soul split?”

Jaemin can see that, “Yeah, i can see that.”

But then, Renjun shrugged, “But then again, love is the only medium that escapes death or so they say. So who knows.”

And then they sit there some more, waiting for the rain. It was getting closer. They could feel it. Around them, the hills were dark. Clouds have covered up the moon, and they were surrounded by night’s embrace. Jaemin looks over at his friend. Pretty. 

And then, he asks the smaller, “Do you think we could be soulmates? In a friend-sense?” 

At this, Renjun laughs while looking at the ground, “That doesn’t exist. Friend soulmates.”

Jaemin shrugged, “Are you sure? Why else can you pull me out of my nightmares when no one else can? Even when we first met?”

Renjun smiles at Jaemin from the side and just offers this, “Everything happens for a reason.”

Jaemin nods at this and then looks over, “Yeah?” And then he continues, “Well I’d like to believe that’s the reason then.”

The white-haired boy just looks at him then, and then on his face, a funny smile spread and he shook his head in disbelief but also a slight sense of happiness. They sit a couple inches from each other, not touching, and on the side of a sloped hill overlooking other sloped hills. And then, right then, finally, the rain comes. It comes very lightly at first, and the two of them barely feel it. 

But then, there it was. The actual rain. Jaemin watches as Renjun tilts his face up to the heavens and lets the droplets slowly fall on his face and trickle down the side. He feels it on himself too. In the darkness of the night, the rain offered a beautiful nuance, and Jaemin feels some of his fear washing away as he looks at the smaller enjoying the rain. It poured down from the heavens and picked up speed, ultimately soaking their hair. And then their shirts. And then their shoes. On the hills, it was just them and the rain. 

Finally, Renjun opens his eyes and looks over at Jaemin. He then pulls himself off the ground, and Jaemin follows suit. Renjun opens his arms and feels the rain on his skin. He then begins laughing, at the silliness of it. The two of them, like this. At night, on some hills, in the rain. And just like that, Jaemin begins laughing too. A strange thing to do, but nothing felt more right. 

They run around the hills, like delinquents, and it was a strange and beautiful sight. 

And even as it approaches time for Jaemin to go home, it was obvious neither of them wanted to leave. 

Jaemin saw it in the way Renjun looked as if he wanted to speak out against it when Jaemin says he needed to go. 

“What?” Jaemin asks him, watching how Renjun’s eyes, through the rain, looked as if they wanted to ask him to stay. 

Jaemin almost wished he did. 

But instead, Renjun just tells him simply, “Come back tomorrow,” He smiles, “I’ll be waiting.”

  
  
  


And so he does. He came back tomorrow. And the day after. And then the day after that. Fuck, he starts coming every day and he doesn’t even explain himself anymore. 

They go here and there when the world was dark and quiet, only meeting at night. And Renjun helps Jaemin a little more every day. They don’t ever venture back to Yeosan, even though Jaemin had asked. Rather, they stay near the woods, and Renjun takes Jaemin through a series of trials of sorts. A pond here. A shallow natural pool there. This and that, and all Jaemin has to do was dip his feet in. If Na Jaemin shows signs of panic, then Renjun was patient. He’d speak to him, he’d be there to comfort him. All without touching the boy once. All he needed was his voice, to guide Jaemin through the darkness of his mind and leave something to latch onto. It was not easy, but little by little, Jaemin cracks a bit more. Some days, the progress was great, and the man can go up to his hips into a gently moving current. On days like that, underneath the moonlight, Renjun and Jaemin celebrate with hollars and plenty of laughter. 

Other days, it felt like they were going backwards. Jaemin could barely dip his feet in without the length of his arms to his fingertips numbing, and his chest constricting. Shortness of breath ensued and his mind could only replay the panic over and over again. On days like this, Renjun could sit there for minutes, even an hour, to make sure Jaemin could feel that he was  _ there _ and that he would be  _ okay _ . 

Something else he had noticed. His nightmares were getting less and less frequent by the week. It hit him at some point that although he was still getting them every  _ other _ day, it was not  _ every _ day. 

Some nights, he came home and passed out instantly, his brain going straight pass the nightmares and dreams instead of some adventure in a moonlit pasture or laying alongside a bank. He still gets them though, but when they come, they come a little less blurred than they were before. A little less muffled. The screams that he would hear, although still terrifying and shocking to his soul, weren’t as muffled. But if anything, it had made Jaemin even more confused. The clearer his flashbacks got, the more he begins to pick out certain things. The screaming. His entire life, he had thought it had only been his. Yet that conclusion always felt wrong in his head, as if his subconscious was telling him to rethink. Now, he could pinpoint slight nuances. He shakes his head. He was confusing himself. But it wasn’t just that. He sees rocks, plenty of them, with water rapidly moving past pushing anything that fell in against the boulders. Before, all he saws were flashes of rocks, but now, he saw the parts of the scene. He thinks about it now. How had he survived that? How in the world had he survived that. 

When he has these nightmares, clearer by the week, he sits up in bed, and although his heart was thumping in terror and his hands shaking, palms clammy, unlike before, this time, he was more confused than scared.

But he shakes that confusion, that fear, away by venturing past those woods to where Renjun was, who at the similar time every night, would sit there with him. Talking to him. Helping him. 

“I got a question,” Jaemin asks one night as he approaches the same spot where Renjun had been sitting. 

He scared the boy, who then whipped his head around quickly. Jaemin always thought that was curious. How Renjun never heard him until he came close, even though his footsteps through the creaky forest was pretty loud. He just assumed Renjun has hearing problems, for he never really heard the strange sounds coming from the forests when they go out either. The wolves howling. The owls hooting. He would only hear it after Jaemin points it out. 

Renjun, now noticing who it was, tilts his head to the side and asks, “We haven’t gone anywhere yet, and you’re asking for your question already?” 

“I am,” Jaemin says as he approaches, “What’s with the flower you always play with before I come?”

Renjun purses his lips and picks up the one he was holding just moments before, “This one?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin nods, recognizing the beautiful white flower that always graced Renjun’s fingers. 

“Ah,” Renjun acknowledges and then twirls the stem around.

“This,” Renjun says, “is a datura.”

“A datura,” Jaemin repeats the name on his lips, “What’s so special about it?”

Renjun doesn’t answer him. Instead, he pauses and asks Jaemin a question, “It’s beautiful, right?”

Jaemin just stops and then says, “Yes.”

Renjun nodded, and then spoke, “A datura is a wild plant brought over here from North America. Also called a moonflower. I think it’s absolutely beautiful.”

“That’s it?” Jaemin asked, a little disappointed. 

“No,” Renjun says, “Like I said, it’s beautiful. But it can also kill you. Makes you hallucinate first. If you smell it or consume it.”

Jaemin pulls his eyebrows together. Renjun keeps the flower away from him, but Jaemin still wonders why the boy would even take the risk, “Then why do you always…”

“Because,” Renjun explains, “Isn’t what it symbolizes so...haunting?” He then looks at the man, “Some of the most beautiful things in life are deadly if not handled correctly. Like... a datura, like fire, like,” Renjun then gestures out onto the stream, “the water that you’re so afraid of, and like…” Renjun smiles gently, “love.”

“What do you know about love?” Jaemin asks with a laugh. 

Renjun shrugs, “Not much. Just that it makes you feel alive.” Renjun thinks about it some more, “Love is the only medium that escapes death.” 

Jaemin nods at this, “I guess.”

Their nights continue like this. Strange conversations in even stranger settings. In a strange time to be out. 

Days go by. And then weeks go by, and suddenly, it seems as if Jaemin had something to look forward to for the first time in years. His nights were spent in this secret company. It was like his little hideout where he could grow himself but also indulge in the company of a comforting but strange individual he calls Renjun. 

It was a strange pairing. Renjun, the boy who doesn’t reveal much about himself but still talks a lot about the world: its habitants, its secrets. Jaemin learns more and more about him. Not enough, and by the day it becomes not enough. But he tries to surpress his thoughts. 

Jaemin finds that Renjun abides by the philosophy that life is so short that to not take part of the world’s greatest pleasures: the feeling of water on your skin, the wind on your back, the smell of flowers. It would be a shame. He says that was why he didn’t want Jaemin to miss out on life because of his fear. 

“You never know when would be the last time you’ll feel again,” Renjun whispers one night, both of them laying just a foot apart on the far bank of the stream, where Jaemin usually was and where Renjun moved to for tonight. 

They lay close, but not enough to touch. Jaemin hummed and asks him in the quiet of the night, “Feel?”

“Yes,” Renjun says, “Feel the heat of the sun on your skin. Smell a rose. See the color of a tree for as vibrant as it is. You don’t know when the last time you’ll be able to experience those things, Jaemin.”

Jaemin thinks about this, “What’s your point?”

Renjun then rolls over until he was laying on his elbows looking at the boy, “My point is that you’re not letting yourself enjoy the pleasures of life, living like this.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Jaemin whispers, and then looks over at his pretty friend. He pauses and then hoists himself up into a sitting position, “Renjun, I’m trying. With you, I’m letting myself try more than I ever had in my life.” 

The smaller blinked and then looked down at his body. He wore a short-sleeved shirt and jeans. The autumn breeze was settling in, and Jaemin, even with the hoodie he was wearing, could feel the slight chills. Yet Renjun seemed as if he felt nothing.

“I know,” He responds. 

Even if they weren’t near water, the boy helps him break through his shell. Jaemin, from so long of not talking to many people, was a bit reserved, but Renjun cracks his wall a little more each night. Whether it be through digging a little into Jaemin’s happy memories, trying to get the boy to remember those instead of the upsetting ones, or through letting Jaemin rant about whatever was on his mind. It was more talking than the taller had done in a long time, and he forgets just how relieving it could be. All these years of keeping his thoughts inside of his mind in fear that the people he’d be sharing them with would judge him and use him had made him forget how nice it could be when he allows someone else to hear his struggles. 

His parents notice. They notice  _ something _ . Something was different. It was subtle, but it was there. Their son woke up and instead of spending the entire breakfast time zoned out and stuck within his own thoughts, not hearing a word they said until they repeated it louder, Jaemin carries himself down the stairs with less drag in his legs. He sits at the table, spooning food in his mouth, and he actually responds to his parents when they speak. It was no longer just a ‘ _ fine _ ’ when they asked him how he was doing. It was a short story on maybe what he did or what happened during the day and how he felt about it. His parents noticed. It wasn’t hard to, especially when beforehand, their son could barely look them in the eyes when he spoke. 

Now he was starting to. Little by little, he was starting to look people in the eyes when they speak. It was what Renjun had told him to practice with others. 

_ “ _ But I  _ do  _ look at you when I speak,” Jaemin had said one night. They were sitting at the pasture again. A full moon had come around once more and there was no better place to watch it. 

“Yeah? And how about everyone else?” Renjun crossed his arms. 

Jaemin had stayed silent. 

“That’s what I thought,” the white-haired boy replied, “You can’t just open yourself up only when you’re with me. I won’t always be here.”

“What do you even mean by that?” Jaemin furrows his brows. 

“I mean,” Renjun rolls his eyes, “At school, I’m not going to be there to pat your back. When you’re looking for work, when you’re trying to get a date, when you’re trying to make friends. So you have to  _ learn _ how to effectively communicate on your own.”

And so he was taking the advice. It was hard, because social anxiety did not go away within a fortnight. It didn’t just disappear because Renjun said it should. It didn’t just disappear because Jaemin decides that he’ll just stop feeling nervous or insecure about people’s intentions when they talked to him. It was slowly going away because he was putting effort in, slow but gradual effort. 

He was training his mind, with the help of Renjun, to recognize when he was slipping into the mentality of assuming people only want to talk to him out of pity.  _ Even if that was the case _ ,  _ don’t give them a reason to pity you _ . Renjun had said, and on the surface, it felt like bad advice. But when it played out, Jaemin sees a difference. It was hard, but during class, when called on by a teacher, rather than shrugging his shoulders when he knew the answer and making his teacher and classmates look poorly upon him, he musters up the courage to speak up. 

In the hallways, if someone attempted to speak to him, it still made him nervous and in his head, he would think that they had some ulterior motive; however, the key was to recognize that he was feeling that way. Only then would he be able to calm himself down and look into the eyes of the person he was talking to and respond normally. Even then, he wasn’t able to hold a long full conversation, but it was a start. His classmates begin to notice, in fact, many people do. Something was happening, but no one could pinpoint exactly what. Only Jaemin knew. 

Jeno and Mark found it suspicious. They found it very suspicious when their friend, who they had gotten used to only sitting at their lunch table occasionally and barely saying anything except a comment here and there, begin involving himself a bit more in conversations. It wasn’t perfect. Not at all. But they could see that there was clear effort from Jaemin’s part. 

“Jinah asked me to hang out later today,” Jaemin says suddenly in the middle of lunch, fork stabbing at the lemon cake on his plate. 

Jeno and Mark looked up from their food and stared at Jaemin for a long minute, before Mark slapped his hand down on the table and made Jaemin look up at him, “Okay, Jaemin  _ what  _ is going on?”

Jaemin just stared at his friend, who he was only starting to notice had grown up so much now. It was only recently that Jaemin started to actually notice his surroundings, and he was feeling bad how much he had neglected, “What?”

“Since when do you just  _ start a conversation _ ?” Mark asked. 

Jaemin opened and his mouth to speak and then closes it again. 

“Great,” Jeno says, elbowing Mark, “Now you got him to shut up again. Anyways,” Jeno then turns his head to his friend, “Jaemin, what did you tell Jinah? She’s pretty.”

Jaemin shakes his head, “I’m not ready for that.”

“For a relationship?” Jeno squinted his eyes. 

“For those kinds of interactions,” Jaemin corrects, “I’m not...mentally prepared for that just yet.”

And both of his friends stay silent.

This was the first time that Jaemin ever confided in them, even slightly, about his internal issues, whether it be social anxiety or his fear of water or anything of the sort. So the two didn’t know what to say. And honestly, Jaemin didn’t know either. He couldn’t explain it other than  _ Renjun _ .

And so he doesn’t say anything, not until he sees Renjun again. Every night, like clockwork.

Renjun knows so much about him now. Knows what makes him tick, what makes him calm down, what makes him happy. He tells the smaller many things, partly because he asks and partly because he just feels comfortable doing so. No one had ever known more about him than this stranger turned friend that he only meets during the night. 

Despite this, Renjun still kept him on a question limit. A question a day, and Jaemin was getting sick of it. Although he loved Renjun’s tangents about philosophy and the random things that go on in the boy’s mind, he still felt as if he knew little about Renjun’s  _ life _ compared to what Renjun knew about his life. He didn’t know what Renjun did when he got home from school. He didn’t even know what he did  _ in  _ school. Was Renjun the quiet type in school? Or was he the loud extrovert that acted as the class clown? Did he hang out with friends? 

He knew none of this, and Jaemin found it unfair that Renjun could ask him all he wanted, yet he could only get one question a day. Jaemin would have thought that with the time they had spent together, he wouldn’t have to ask for something as basic as a  _ question _ . 

But everytime he tries, the smaller shuts him down. Jaemin knew it was only a matter of time before he can’t stand it anymore. 

Tonight, Jaemin had been talking about the conversation he had with Jeno and Mark.

“-but I told her that I was busy.” Jaemin tells Renjun, in reference to Jinah, “I’m not actually busy. I just... don’t think I can hang out with someone outside of school just yet. I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

Renjun nods as he listens, and then purses his lips, “Would you...want to? If you could?”

“Want to what?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun wasn’t sure how to ask, “Go out with Jinah.”

Jaemin could hear something in Renjun’s voice, but he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he laughs, “I don’t know, Renjun. Maybe. Maybe not. But the idea is what draws me. The idea that I can  _ do _ it if I wanted to. Go out. Be normal.”

_ Normal _ . Renjun doesn’t like that word. Jaemin was normal. He just had things he needed to work on, like everyone else, just to a higher degree. Renjun doesn’t say anything to that, but lets the silence of the night aside from the rushing of the rocky stream flow through. And then Jaemin breaks that silence by asking some vulnerable question. 

“Do you think I can become…” Jaemin doesn’t know how to word it, “...normal again?” He asks that night when they sit near the stream. Renjun is leaning against the same tree that Jaemin was at this time, but they don’t touch. Renjun always kept himself at a small distance, Jaemin noticed. But he never said anything. He looks at the stream. It made him uncomfortable still. That sick feeling in his stomach has yet to go away, and his palms still sweat if he thinks about it for too long.

“What do you mean?” Renjun asks. 

“I…” Jaemin starts, “...want to do normal things without panicking like I do. The normal high school things. Going to pool parties. Dates. Drink a little bit. I drive a nice car, but I’ve never taken a friend out on a ride in it. I live in a good house, but I never invite anyone over. Things like that.”

Renjun pursed his lips and then looked over at Jaemin. He was quiet for a moment, but then he finally confirms, “I think you can, Jaemin. I think you’re on your way.” 

Jaemin breathes out and looks back at his friend, “You know, I’m starting to believe you.”

“Starting to?” Renjun asks with a laugh. In the corner of his eyes, Jaemin sees Renjun fidgeting with a flower he plucked from the ground. He had been doing it ever since they started talking about Jinah. Jaemin doesn’t think too much of it.

And then Jaemin asks him, turning his head, “How about you, Huang? What do you do in your free time? When you’re not with me?”

Renjun then turns his head away and shakes his head, “You already asked your one question earlier, Jaemin.”

This time, Jaemin feels irritated, but he, without tearing his eyes off of Renjun, says in a blank, disappointed but empty tone, “You have to be kidding me, Renjun.”

Renjun glances at his friend and pulls his brows together, “What do you mean?”

Jaemin then leans his head back against the tree trunk in frustration. After all this time, Renjun still held him at a limit. Held him at arm’s length, even as they got closer in every other sense. 

“You know that  _ most _ friends wouldn’t have to wait for so damn long to know something as simple as what you do  _ outside _ of school,” Jaemin tells him straight up, “Most friends don’t force a limit of one question a day about themselves. Do you know how unfair that is?”

Renjun pursed his lips, “I  _ do _ tell you things.”

Jaemin chuckles, “Sure I know a lot about you, Renjun. Your thoughts on zucchini. Your feelings about love. And on some days, that’s enough.” The white-haired boy looked at him, waiting. 

And then Jaemin continues, “But not on others. Other days, it’s not enough. It’s not enough to not know  _ more _ about you.”

Renjun turns away and purses his lips, “I’m not sure what you want from me.”

“Yes you do,” Jaemin tells him, “I ask you and every day, you brush it off. I don’t know the songs you listen to when you’re upset over something that happened between you and your friend. I don’t know if you maybe love to drive out to the beach on the weekends with your siblings. Hell, I don’t even know if you  _ have _ siblings. Fights with your parents? A funny story of you getting in trouble over something stupid? Failed relationships? I know none of that. Things specific to  _ you _ .”

Renjun stayed silent for a while, unsure of what to say, and then he asks, “Why do you even want to know that?”

“Because sometimes, it feels like I’m giving more than I’m getting,” Jaemin says.

At that, Renjun looked up at him and parted his lips to speak, but nothing came out. 

And then, Jaemin explained,, “Look, on a technical standpoint. You’re giving me a lot, Renjun. You’re giving me a chance to help myself. To fight my own fears. But on a friendship standpoint, it just  _ feels _ like I’m baring it all to you and you’re only give me one answer a day in return. Hell, I don’t even know  _ why _ you don’t tell me things. Don’t you know that friendship is two sided? I don’t just want you to listen to my problems. I want to listen to yours too.”

Renjun does not say anything, just looks at his friend.

Jaemin continues, “I’m over here always telling you everything, and you tell me  _ nothing _ .”

“I never asked you to,” Renjun says defensively.

“So then should I leave?” Jaemin proposed, voice ambiguous as to whether or not he really means it, “If you don’t care whether or not I tell you things, then should I leave?” 

“You won’t,” Renjun tells him. Jaemin furrowed his brows and then noticed this about the smaller. He calls Jaemin’s actions before he does them, so sure of what he’s saying. From the very beginning, Renjun had called his card for coming back to this place. He had been right. And throughout their friendship, Renjun had been successful in doing these things, but now, it felt more personal to let Renjun be wrong.

“You think I won’t?” Jaemin asks, voice never raised but still firm. 

“You won’t,” Renjun says, “Because when you need help, you come to me. When you need someone to talk to, you come to me.”

Jaemin nods with a fickle smile, “Maybe. But you said it yourself a while ago, Renjun. You’re not always going to be here. What’s the difference between leaving now and leaving later?”

Renjun responds, but his voice felt unsure this time and searches Jaemin’s eyes for some sort of confirmation but found nothing. Renjun says, “You’re bluffing.”

“You want to find out?” Jaemin asks then pulls himself up off of the ground, wiping any dirt or dust from his pants, “You want to find out if I’m bluffing?”

And then Jaemin looks around before staring back down at Renjun, who sat in place. Jaemin speaks, “I can leave right now, and maybe you’re right. Maybe I am bluffing, and tomorrow night, I’ll come back to this one sided friendship and try to live with knowing a lot about you but so little about your life. Or maybe I’m not. Maybe I’m not bluffing and you’ll come here tomorrow. Alone. And next thing you know, you’re not just waiting for one person. You’ll be waiting for two.”

Jaemin knows that deep inside, he would probably come back. Because like it or not, Renjun was right. Jaemin didn’t just  _ need  _ Renjun’s help, he wanted it. But it was hard to keep wanting Renjun’s company when it didn’t feel like he was getting the same effort back. 

Renjun just stares at him, words on the tip of his tongue but not daring to spill. 

Jaemin just keeps the eye contact but asks Renjun one last question, “So Renjun, are you going to talk to me? Or not?”

A moment of silence sat between them, and the only sounds were the occasional hoots or cracks from the forest and the fast flowing of the stream not too from them. 

And then, Renjun speaks. Voice completely unsure, but he tries anyways, “You’ll be back.”

That was it. Jaemin just airily laughs to himself and then shakes his head before turning his heel. He made steps past Renjun and into the forest. He was upset, for sure. It felt as if their friendship focused so much on Jaemin. Focused on his life, on his problems. So much that it felt more of a support system than a mutual friendship. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Renjun’s long talks with him, about all kinds of things. It was that it wasn’t  _ enough _ . It wasn’t enough to know just that. Because just like everything else, friendships are supposed to  _ grow _ . 

He felt upset, and although he knew that realistically, he would come back, he hated how it was. 

Jaemin must have walked about a couple meters into the forest when he heard a voice sound behind him, and he slowed his steps. He hears Renjun’s voice. Renjun’s pretty voice speak up. 

“Jaemin,” his name was suddenly called out, and as if he was waiting for it, Jaemin stopped. The voice was soft, and Jaemin waited. Waiting for something else. It must have been forever it felt like, until he heard Renjun’s voice sound again. 

Renjun says out loud, voice soft as if he had made a tough decision, “I like to watch the garden in my free time,” 

Jaemin stops and turns his head to the side while his body still faced forward towards the direction of home. 

Some silence. And then, Renjun speaks again, “After school, I spend time with my parents. They get lonely without me.” His voice gets softer, “I watch them work. And I go with them when they run errands. Just small things, here and there.”

Jaemin waits for him to continue. Renjun wasn’t turned towards him but he speaks again, slowly,”I don’t really have friends,” He hesitated when saying this, “At school, people don’t really see me. I’m a bit of a…” Renjun chuckles and looks down at his feet, “...loner.”

Jaemin turns around fully now and listens from a distance while Renjun sits there, playing with the dirt on the ground. Renjun did not strike Jaemin as a loner because of his personality, but he listens. 

“I don’t go to parties either,” Renjun murmurs. 

I don’t drink. I don’t go on dates.” He continues. 

Jaemin listens.

“I’ve never done those typical teenage things that people do with their friends,” Renjun fidgeted with the grass beneath where he sat, “Like breaking into places I’m not supposed to be. Or skinny dipping. Or doing stupid shit late at night.” He pauses.

The air felt heavy, even though it was a simple confession. 

And then Renjun confesses, “You’re really the only person I ever talk to.”

Jaemin swallowed. He found it unbelievable, especially with the way Renjun was around him. And stepped a little closer, “Why?” 

“What do you mean,” Renjun says in a voice so quiet Jaemin barely heard him. 

“What did you do?” Jaemin asked, “Because you’re….Renjun. You’re talkative. You’re assertive. You’re...pretty great. There’s no reason why people should treat you like that unless something happened.”

Renjun then looked up at Jaemin then with glassy eyes and then parted his mouth to speak, “Jaemin.” 

The man in question nods, “Yes.”

“I’ll start telling you things from now on,” He says, “I promise.”

There was more to it, Jaemin could tell, so he waited. 

“I’ll tell you about my day. About all of that,” He says, voice desperate, “I just ask one thing in return,” Renjun requests. 

Jaemin pauses, then replies, “What is it?”

“Don’t ask me that question,” Renjun responds, “Don’t ask me what happened.” And then he paused, “That’s the only thing I can’t tell you right now.” 

Jaemin bites his words. It was the largest question that burned in his mind. He could live with that. He could live with missing this one piece of information, if it meant he’d get to know everything else. It was strange. There was something Renjun was hiding, obviously, but Jaemin could not pinpoint what it was. He had a feeling it had something to do with the person that Renjun waits for every night. But he decides he can live without knowing. Na Jaemin steps forward and walks until he’s in front of Huang Renjun, who was still sitting on the forest floor. 

“Okay,” Jaemin says. 

Renjun looks up at him, and they come to a silent agreement. Jaemin found it awfully mysterious, but he figures there’s a reason the boy won’t tell him. So he won’t ask. If he  _ really _ gets curious, then he’ll just ask around in the town, but for now, he’ll just respect Renjun’s wishes. 

There was something sad about everything that Renjun had confessed to him. It was at moments like these that Jaemin sees that Renjun wasn’t way too different from himself. While Jaemin had missed out on so many experiences because of how he was, Renjun had also missed out on the same experiences. Although  _ his _ reasons were unknown for now, the effects were the same.

And then, Jaemin decides that he doesn’t just want to be the person who Renjun saves anymore. He also wants to be the one who helps Renjun. 

So Jaemin holds out his hand, “Come with me.”

Renjun stared at the hand and then back up at Jaemin, “Huh?”

Jaemin repeats himself, “Get up, come on.”

Renjun eyes him cautiously, “...Where?”

“You say you’ve never done the ‘typical’ teenage things, right?” Jaemin asks, “I haven’t either. So let’s go. Let’s do them together, one night at a time. Come on, we’ll go downtown right now.”

Renjun blinks at him, “...downtown?” 

“Yeah,” Jaemin says, and then tells Renjun something Renjun had told him from the beginning, “Trust me.”

Renjun looks at the hand, and then up at Jaemin. Jaemin could tell. Renjun had made a big decision when saying he would start telling Jaemin things. Although he was prevented from asking the one question that would tell him why, he could live with not knowing for now. He looks into his friends eyes and tries to show him sincerity. 

“Why?” Renjun asks.

At this question, Jaemin shrugs and looks off to the side, “I want to do something for you too. Show you things. And not just the other way around, like how it’s been.”

Renjun just stared at him for a while, as if it was the first time in a long time someone had care about him like this.

Finally, Renjun doesn’t take the hand. But instead, he pulls himself up off the ground and nods. Jaemin drops his hands to his side, unsure why Renjun after all this time, had never touched him. Not even accidentally. There had been a time where Renjun had lost his balance while walking, and fell on the forest ground rather than taking Jaemin’s arm. 

Jaemin gives his friend a smile and then walks backwards into the forest before turning around to jog, “Let’s go.”

Hesitantly, but surely enough, Renjun then goes off into a sprint behind Jaemin, weaving through the oak trees in the darkness. There were stumbles here and there from sprinting too fast and having gnarly roots everywhere, but they make it past the treeline and bursted through until they see the plain and then in the far distance, Yeosan. Jaemin looked back at his friend. Renjun’s white hair bounced as he ran and then he stopped just inches from Jaemin. 

Jaemin put a hand out, almost about to grab onto Renjun’s arm to stop the boy from running into him, but he stopped last moment until he barely hovered over. He looked down at his hands and then up at Renjun, who gave him a strange look back. Jaemin drops them. And there was a strange moment there, before Jaemin asks. 

“So when we approach my house, you have to be quiet, alright?” Jaemin says. 

“Your house?” Renjun asks.

“Yeah,” Jaemin nods, “We’re taking my car.”

And so they run. They run past the grassy plain and away from the forest line until they reach the edge of the suburbs. And then, they weave in and out through the winding neighborhoods. Renjun is not a bad runner. His slender legs and slim body made him slice through the night quickly, and it looked as if he never ran out of breath at all. When they approached the street, Jaemin slowed down, but Renjun kept jogging lightly until he reaches the driveway of Jaemin’s two story home. 

Jaemin approached and gave Renjun a strange look, “How do you know where I lived?”

Renjun gave him a face as if Jaemin was being an idiot and then gestured to the car sitting on the concrete driveway, “You told me you drove a yellow Mustang.”

“Oh, right,” Jaemin remembers, even though there were two yellow mustangs in the neighborhood. Renjun must have taken his lucky guess. Anyhow, he then tells Renjun to stay put. 

Meanwhile, he sneaks through the back again and goes into the house, sneaking up to his room to grab his car keys before coming back around to the front. Instead of unlocking it with the button, which would make a sound, he opened the passenger and driver doors with the key and the two of them climbed inside, shutting the door gently, making sure not to disturb the quiet street. 

The car starting on made a loud sound, and Jaemin muttered under his breath  _ shit, shit, shit _ and Renjun laughed prettily in the passenger seat. He reversed out of the driveway quickly and then whipped down the street before any excessively long sound could wake anyone up. Once they got out of the neighborhood, 

Jaemin rolled down all the windows of the car and opened the sunroof and the two of them yell out into the quiet air of Yeosan. Jaemin had seen kids his age do this in their own cars with their own friends, but he had always been too quiet and secluded from everyone to do it himself. But with Renjun here, and with the progress that he’s made with his own mentality, he allows himself to be free this night. He blared the music, and roared through the streets until he could see the downtown area up ahead. 

Downtown Yeosan was not like any of the major cities, where it was sprawling everywhere with skyscrapers for hundreds of square miles. It was one of the more minor ones, and there were a couple of high rises. About three dozen or so that took up a couple blocks, but nothing that was absolutely outstanding. Most of them were corporate buildings for middle sized branches, law firms, offices, or multi-use buildings. There was a nice little shopping area down there too, with restaurants and diners. 

Urban parks and then past downtown, a highway led out of Yeosan but not before crossing a bridge that went over a decently sized river. Occasionally, cars would pass but overall not that many. 

Jaemin ended up parking in an empty lot away from any main buildings, and the two of them exit the vehicle and began walking. They walked until they reached the beginnings of downtown and Renjun looks up at the tall buildings. There weren’t an absurd amount, but still plenty. Jaemin looks too, never having been down here this late. Even during the day, Jaemin rarely ever goes down here unless there is something he had to do, which he rarely ever does. The two of them walk side by side through downtown at night, with only a car or two passing every five or ten minutes. 

For the first time, Jaemin lets himself be a teenager. He and Renjun pick up the orange traffic cones in the middle of a road that had been blocked off during the day for construction and placed it on their hands, acting like hats. Jaemin acts like a knight about to joust, and Renjun laughs prettily before running towards Jaemin with his pointy cone hat. Jaemin dodges in time and moves out of the way. They go about this for a while before Jaemin got tired and they set the cones down. 

They kept walking, through the relatively empty streets. Occasionally, they’d see someone, most likely a drug addict, walking around the streets, but they ignored the two of them anyways. Ultimately, Jaemin looks up ahead and sees a fountain sitting on the road, part of an urban park setting. He feels the tingling in his fingers and he rolls his knuckles. Renjun looks at Jaemin expectantly to gauge if everything was alright and Jaemin looks at him with a smile. He takes a deep breath and walks forward, leaving Renjun behind. 

He turns around, “Aren’t you coming?”

Renjun was looking at him with surprised eyes, “Where are you going?”

“In,” Jaemin says with a gentle grin. 

“You’re...going in first?” Renjun asks. 

Jaemin just turns around and walks forward. The fountain was two tiers, circular, with several spouts of water spilling out of the mouths of sculptured mermaids. On the floor of the fountain were dozens of coins that people had tossed in for wishes. The pool of the fountain was only two or three feet in depth at most, and he had gone into water with Renjun that was higher than that, not by too much but still higher. But that was with Renjun pushing him to do it, coercing him, and being there with him the whole way. 

He had never gone in voluntarily by his own accord. But now, as Jaemin sits on the edge of the fountain, he swings his feet around to dip them in. The water was immediately chilly to the touch, especially now since winter was going to come very soon. But he had gone outside every single night to see Renjun that Jaemin was getting used and acclimated to the cold weather. Still, it was quite cold and he felt shivers run up his spine. Even then, he felt his palms get clammy. 

He takes deep breaths and thinks about Renjun’s voice. The boy wasn’t talking to him but Jaemin imagines it. The pretty sound, telling him about how pretty the moon was. The stars. And he calms down a little bit. 

Before he could start up with the panic habits again, Jaemin cleared his mind and pushed himself off the edge before sinking his body into the fountain. He didn’t get his head wet. Never once in all this time he had spent with Renjun had Jaemin submerged his head. It was a line he had yet to cross. He could get his hair and head wet from splashing of course, but not from submersion. So here he was, sitting with his bottom on the floor of the fountain, and his shoulders peeking above the cold water. It was  _ so cold _ , but not enough to get sick. He then began laughing and called Renjun in, who was standing at a distance watching. 

Smiling, Renjun walked over and slid his legs in first before going into the fountain easily. 

“Looks like soon, you won’t be needing me anymore,” Renjun laughs with a hint of sadness as he wades for no reason in the water. It was only 3 feet. 

Jaemin chuckles but assures Renjun, “I don’t just hang out with you so I can get better, Renjun.”

Renjun just smiles at this. 

“Besides,” Jaemin says while looking around to make sure there was no one. After all, they were in the middle of downtown swimming in a public fountain, “I still have a long way to go.”

“Well, I’ll be there with you the entire way,” Renjun chides in.

At this, Jaemin looks at him intensely and tilts his head to the side, “And how about after?”

The question catches Renjun off guard, and he parts his lips to speak. And then closes them again. And ultimately, just offers Jaemin this, “Worry about after when after comes.”

At some point, they exit the fountain, clothes dripping wet and drying  _ very _ cold from the chilly air, but Jaemin didn’t mind. In the night, no one was there to judge them besides a couple strangers here and there that drove through or walked by. They wrung their clothes out until most of the water was gone and it was just damp and just continued walking through the streets. And then, as per protocol, they talk. 

They talk, but this time, Renjun kept his promise and tells Jaemin a little bit more. Not so much that it felt forced just to appease the taller, but casually slipping in details that he wouldn’t really go into before. When Renjun tells Jaemin about his thoughts on pets, he slips in a personal story of his childhood dog. When Renjun tells Jaemin about his thoughts on insecurities, he slips in his own little one: on his back, which is why he doesn’t like to take off his clothes when they were in water. This one, he doesn’t go in details about. 

When Renjun tells Jaemin about his thoughts on old age, he also slips in an anecdote about how the other day, he felt sad because his grandma was very sick and she hadn’t seen him in years.

“Why haven’t you come visit her?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun shrugs, “Complications,” And then he sighed, “She’ll be able to see me soon though. In a couple weeks, she’ll come visit.”

It was small things like these was what Jaemin wanted all along. To know the small details of Renjun’s life, to know that he wasn’t just someone that Renjun knew about at night and no other time. And they walk along the streets like this for a while. 

When someone would see them, they’d walk past giving Jaemin a strange look. Maybe they gave one to Renjun too, but Jaemin was too busy suddenly feeling anxious from the way the occasional passerbys was looking at him. Renjun told him not mind them. It was understandable. They were two boys, out in downtown at who knows what time, with wet clothes and making a loud ruckus. 

It had to be 3 in the morning when they decided to head back into the Mustang, and Jaemin started up the engine. 

Before he reversed out of the parking space, the man looked towards his friend with the pretty white hair and smiled, “Let’s do this more often.”

Renjun looks at him and then nods with a gentle look on his face, “Okay.” 

Jaemin nodded satisfied at that and pulled out, and glanced over at Renjun, “Where do you live again? I’ll drop you off at your place.”

At this, Renjun visibly tensed up and shifted in his seat. 

Jaemin noticed, “What?”

Renjun hesitated, “I don’t really feel comfortable with you taking me home.”

Jaemin furrowed his brows while taking a turn, “Why?”

“My yard looks horrible,” Renjun says, and Jaemin laughs at that. 

“Your  _ yard _ looks horrible?” Jaemin laughs, “I’m not taking that. Where do you live?” 

“Just drop me off at my parent’s place, I’ll stay with them for the night,” Renjun adamantly insists. Jaemin remembered Renjun telling him the boy’s address before, but he kicked himself because he couldn’t remember it. 

“Fine, what’s the address,” Jaemin gives in. 

Renjun rolls his eyes, “3924 Sun Drive.” 

And so Jaemin rides through the streets of Yeosan until he reaches another set of suburbs, a bit far from his own. 

“You live far from the stream. You’re telling me you make the walk there every day?” Jaemin asks. 

“I have nothing else to do in the evenings,” Renjun responds. 

They pull up on a house that sits on a street that felt so familiar to Jaemin. It was two stories, like most of the other houses here in the quiet suburbs and had a quaint space and design. The lawn was not as bad as Renjun made it out to be. A little overgrown at part, sure, but nothing too out of the ordinary. There was a well kept garden near the front too, and Jaemin pulls up on the side of the road, not going into the driveway. 

He looks into the house and a weird feeling comes out of his chest. He thinks that maybe, it was because he didn’t want Renjun to leave tonight. Although that was true, that still didn’t sound right. He just shakes his head. 

But Renjun says his goodbyes anyways, and exits the car, going up the driveway. And when Jaemin pulls out of the neighborhood, that feeling still stayed in his chest. A feeling of a familiar longing. He turns up the music to drown it away. 

He doesn’t get nightmares that morning.

  
  
  
  
  


“Jaemin, would you care to explain why your clothes are all wet in the bathroom?” His mother asked the next morning when he comes down for breakfast. Her hands were gripping her spoon and Jaemin could tell she was nervous that she might trigger something in him. If this was him a couple months ago, he would’ve been. But this time, Jaemin just felt the trace of a last night’s memory and it overruled the fact that he had been surrounded by water in that fountain. 

Jaemin cursed under his breath. When he had gotten home early this morning, he had been so tired that he just stripped out of his clothes and into sleeping shorts, leaving them in the bathroom without putting them in the washing machine. 

“Oh, I, uh,” Jaemin thought of a reasonable explanation. 

He checked his phone. He needed to head out. “I have to go to school. I’ll see you later, mom,” Jaemin says before standing up and grabbing a fruit from the table and coming over, kissing his mother on the cheek once before heading out. He didn’t stay to see how his mother brought one hand up to feel her cheek, stunned because for the first time in nine years, she felt the warmth of her son return. 

At school, Jaemin sits a little straighter in his desk and pays attention in class a little more to what the teacher was saying. His world seemed to have a little more color. He could remember some of the names of his classmates now, contrary to how before, all of them blurred together. It was still difficult to hold a conversation. But he was trying his best. Even if it meant asking the teacher a question, it was more than he had been doing before. He still walks by himself in the hallways, his own choice. But during lunch, he opens up to Mark and Jeno a little bit more. 

“I cannot believe Mr. Han gave me after school detention for chewing  _ gum _ ,” Mark complained, all the while taking bites out of an egg sandwich, “That on  _ top _ of the grade he just gave me?”

Jaemin shook his head,“He didn’t give you detention for chewing gum, Mark. Stop twisting the story. He gave you detention for talking back when he politely asked you to spit  _ out _ your gum.” 

“And for sticking it under the desk to spite him,” Jeno added. 

Mark went quiet, as if admitting to that being true, but then sat back frustratedly and ran his hands through his hair, gripping onto the locks, “Okay true, but still, the grade...when my parents see the grade...”

“Just throw it away,” Jaemin advised. 

Mark shook his head, “I can’t. It’s also on the online portal. So they’re going to kill me.”

“The scary thing is,” Jeno piped up after swallowing a bite of his japchae, “you could be serious, and we honestly wouldn’t know,” He laughs, “Because I can totally see them tossing your body in the Yunsa river. Your parents are kind of scary, Mark.” 

Mark rolled his eyes, “My dad’s a coroner. If he’s going to kill me, he knows better than to throw me into a river, idiot. Dead bodies float.” 

“Not if you remove the intestines,” Jaemin mentions. 

Jeno gave him a weird look, “How do you know that?”

“We literally just learned about that the other week in biology, Jeno,” Jaemin rolls his eyes, “How do you  _ not _ know that.”

Jeno just mimics him and went back to eating. 

“Anyways, pray for me,” Mark panics, “If you don’t see me tomorrow, you’ll know why.”

From besides him, Jeno laughs. 

It was small little steps like this in conversation that meant the most. Not just to Jaemin’s progress, but to Jeno and Mark as his friends. Jaemin felt a new appreciation for them. All this time, and he had been through hell mentally. Jaemin had barely talked to them, never hung out with them. He could be replaced by an inanimate object, and it would not have made a difference. Yet even then, they were there. Even quietly, they were there. 

Jaemin knew they wanted to ask. They wanted to ask what was going on. What was happening. But for some reason, there was something preventing him from telling them about Renjun. As if he’d ruin the secret. As if their little moonlight adventures wouldn’t be theirs anymore. It was stupid, and he knew he’d mention it sometime. But today was not the day. 

Even though Jaemin gets only about five hours of sleep a day. 3 A.M., the time he’d usually be getting home, up until 8 A.M. when he’d have to hurry and get ready for school which started at 8:30 A.M., he felt more energetic than he had ever been in nine years. It was obvious in every aspect of his life. It was not as energetic as he could have been, for this wasn’t going to happen overnight, but he was still more alive than he could have said he had been for so long. It was like air finally came into his lungs. 

He gets home from school, and instead of going straight to his room, he spends a little time with his parents if they happened to be home, engaging in a small conversation. They have yet to point out how he had changed, for they were afraid it would break the spell. Jaemin could tell. 

At nights, he would run down to the stream, knowing the path like the back of his hand now, where he always sees Renjun, the white haired boy, in the same spot. His hands digging at a white datura. And that was when Jaemin  _ really _ came alive. When the night came. Nighttime was their little secret, and once the sun came up, nothing. No word. No phone number. No mention. Nothing. They were each other’s secrets. Each other’s hideaways. 

Some days, they’d follow Renjun, somewhere into the woods. The forests that the boy knew so well. In the beginning when they first met, Jaemin found all of the nighttime forest walking a little bit creepy. Especially when he was the only person who seemed to notice the sounds that came from the forest. But by now, it felt comfortable, being here. Winter came, and Jaemin came down to the stream with a coat on all days. Yeosan was one of the warmer places in the country, since it was near the Southern edge and not as mountainous. It snowed, but not way too often. And the temperature does not get below 40 degrees way too often, so although the waters are still  _ very _ cold, it was survivable. Besides, Jaemin felt adapted to the temperature, from making it his daily routine. 

Renjun continues to keep his promise. His promise to talk to Jaemin more about his own life.

And Jaemin continues to grow more and more amazed by the boy. He noticed that Renjun’s life is based mostly around observing his surroundings. But that didn’t make it less interesting. He tells Jaemin of a cool new flower that he had found on the road while walking one day, growing out of a gutter. 

And about how his grandmother finally visited him, and how much he had cried. 

Jaemin tells him a lot too. He tells him about his first time hanging out with Jeno and Mark outside of school for the first time since the accident. About how they went to a skate park together, and although it was strange and uncomfortable at times due to him not used to going out during the day, it was a step forward. 

And then later, Jaemin tells him about how he finally accepted a girl’s request to hang out earlier that day and how he took her to get coffee. 

“You won’t believe what she told me,” Jaemin recounts the event with a laugh. That particular night, Jaemin had taken Renjun out on a drive through town again. 

Renjun asks, “What’d she tell you?”

“She told me that I wasn’t what she expected me to be,” Jaemin says and then continues, “I asked her ‘well, what did you expect me to be like?’ and she had the audacity to say ‘more mysterious and moody.’” 

At this, Renjun sunk down in his seat and brought his fingers up to rub his temples, “These people are  _ still _ fantasizing about fixing the handsome mysterious Na Jaemin?”

Jaemin doesn’t miss the wording and he smiles cheekily as he revs up the engine, “You think I’m handsome.”

He looks over at Renjun, who looked as if he had made a large mistake, and the smaller shook his head, “That’s not the point.”

“It is now,” Jaemin laughs, teasing his friend.

Renjun looks over at Jaemin, and asks him with the more forced carefree tone, “Was she pretty?” 

Jaemin laughed when he glanced over at his friend, who was trying so hard to make it seem like he was fixing his hair in the mirror. 

“She was,” Jaemin admits with a knowing smile, and he looks to see his friend’s reaction. Renjun gives a closed lip smile.

“Well look at you, getting out in the world, al-” Renjun begins. 

But Jaemin clears his throat and interrupts Renjun, “But I can tell you now as a friend that I’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. You’re pretty amazing, Renjun.”

Renjun just stares at him then, and shuts his mouth, leaning back into the seat. Jaemin chuckles at this. 

  
  
  
  


Jaemin doesn’t go on dates after that. Not only because it felt wrong that one time, but because for some reason, it feels wrong when he thinks about future dates. Instead, Jaemin sticks to occasionally hanging out with his two friends outside of school once in a while. He didn’t do it often, for he saved his energy for the nights. 

The nights where he knows, Renjun would be there waiting for him.

The winter was not as harsh this year as it was other years, and the nights were longest during the winter, which was always a good thing. That meant more time he got to spend with Renjun. It rained more, and the stream flowed faster and rougher,and even now, the stream terrified him. He stays a couple meters away, but he was nevertheless less scared than he was before. 

His nightmares, he just could not get rid of them. But they were getting less and less frequent. Yet more and more clear. They happen in the oddest of times, and paints a wider picture each time. 

The only problem was that Jaemin was having trouble piecing it all together. He was getting snippets. Black hair, his own, brown eyes, his own, but then not his own, and then his own, and then not his own. He believes he is disconnecting from his past, becoming someone different by the day that he doesn’t recognize himself in his flashbacks anymore. The voices, morphing like the sounds people hear in horror movies, the out-of-body sounds of so many voices meshing together. He sees the rocks again, rapid water flowing, and then skin. He sees red. Like ink. Everything is confusing but clear, but confusing once again. And he just waits until it goes away. And when it does, it doesn’t come back for a while. He was thankful. 

Jaemin doesn’t know when, but he had been walking out of class alongside Jeno and Mark, as they were talking about how easy the macroeconomics quiz had been. He has his backpack strung across his shoulders and he walks alongside them, straight through the courtyard of the school. As they all walked past, Mark and Jeno stopped talking and stopped in their footsteps. 

Jaemin felt the lack of companionship and turned around, coming to face with his two friends who looked at him with wide eyes. 

“What?” Jaemin asked curiously. 

Jeno looked at the fountain they just walked past. Jaemin had  _ always _ taken the long route. He had always walked around the courtyard rather than through it. A fountain sat in the middle, and they had always known that Jaemin avoided it. But today, their friend had just completely walked through the courtyard without a second thought. 

“You just walked past the…” Mark began. 

“...fountain,” Jeno finished for him. They were itching to ask. They wanted to ask  _ so _ bad. What the hell was going on. 

Jaemin looks at them, and then at the fountain. He pursed his lips. If he thought about it too long, then he  _ would _ get clammy. But even then, not as much as before. So Jaemin digs into his pockets and pulls out a coin, holding it up, he walks towards the fountain and he could see his friends visibly stiffen, Jaemin drops the coin into the water and it lands at the bottom. 

And without a word of explanation, Jaemin walks off heading towards class. 

How could he explain? How could he explain that he spends his nights with a white-haired boy whose skin seemed to glow in the moonlight and voice was so sweet it pulled him out of any nightmare he could muster up. How could he explain that he explores the night fighting demons alongside someone he was beginning to consider closer than a friend. That Huang Renjun helps him a little more every day not only to get over his fear of water, but all of the nine years worth of problems that had stemmed from it. Nine years, eleven months, fifteen days. 

It was difficult.  _ So _ difficult at times. But Renjun stayed patient. And willing at all times. And how could he explain that  _ he _ helps Renjun a little more every day, to live the experiences that he said he never had before. 

They go to downtown several times, doing something different each times. One time, they would climb a fence upon Jaemin’s pressuring and ends up in a shipyard, where large container boxes sat near the river’s edge. Here, they’d make a game out of hide and seek, like delinquents. Or another time, Jaemin takes him to a little lookout, where they’d be able to see the rest of downtown and the suburbs in the distance from the vantage point. There, Jaemin swore that in the corner of his eyes, he saw Renjun’s hands go out towards his own several times but they always pull back. They  _ always _ pulled back. 

“Is there a reason you don’t touch me?” Jaemin asks one night, as they sit on a park bench somewhere in downtown between the riverside and where the city block started.

Renjun narrowed his eyes at that and asks him, “Is there a reason why you  _ want _ me to touch you?” 

Jaemin only realizes how strange his initial question now that Renjun responded with that and he laughs, “You know what I meant.”

He did. Renjun knew what he meant, and Jaemin knew it. The boy looked over at him. A couple inches sat between them, and it was  _ always _ a couple inches. 

Renjun breathes out, “No reason.”

“No reason?” Jaemin asks, “So I can do this?”

Jaemin reaches out a hand, but then Renjun jumped away in shock. 

Jaemin smiled at him, “So there is a reason.”

“Germs.”

“Right,” Jaemin says. 

Jaemin wonders if it was because Renjun did not  _ want _ to touch him. He wonders this, but for some reason, he knew it wasn’t the case. Because he sees it more and more often as the nights went by. He sees the fingers going out towards his hand, or his arm, or anywhere, and then he sees them retract. He also feels the glances. Whenever Renjun thought Jaemin wasn’t paying attention, he would look for a moment. Jaemin noticed every time. Because the boy would stop talking without even knowing it. 

And he feels how Renjun gets closer and closer every night, as if testing the waters. Whether it be in some body of water in those forests or out in Yeosan when Jaemin would take him to make new experiences, when he’s walking or when they’re doing just about anything, he feels the presence of Renjun close to him. So close he could reach out and hold him, but he doesn’t. Even if he wanted to. 

Even on a particular night when they were in a closed basketball court in a park near downtown, Jaemin and Renjun played it a little close while dribbling the ball. When Jaemin was playing on the offense, he moved a little too close to the boy. And vice versa. 

They had gotten caught that night. To be fair, they weren’t exactly sure they had been doing anything wrong. However, a flashlight shines into the open court, which was outside in the first place, and Jaemin was the first to spot a patrol car. They didn’t have their lights on, but he could read the lettering on the sides. 

The officer walks through the open fence, and calls out. Jaemin drops the ball and asks Renjun, “Do you want to handle this?”

“No, you do it,” Renjun replies. 

Jaemin shook his head, “Fine,” And he waits for the officer to come over. 

“What are you doing out here, kid? It’s near 2 in the morning,” The man in a gruff voice says, shining his flashlight in Jaemin’s face. The boy put up a hand to block it.

“Just playing basketball,” Jaemin replies casually. 

“You can’t be here,” The officer affirms, “It’s private property.” And then he shines his flashlight over to a sign that was hanging on the chain link fence.  _ Oh _ . It would not have mattered to them anyways, but they genuinely did not notice it this time. 

“Oh,” Jaemin says, “I’m sorry, officer. We didn’t see the sign. We thought this was for public use.”

The officer narrows his eyes, “We?”

Jaemin tilted his head to side, “Yeah, my friend and I.” And then he gestured around to Renjun who was standing a couple meters behind him. 

The officer shines his flashlight over to where Jaemin gestured and the light landed on Renjun who blinked at the brightness. 

The light stayed on Renjun for a while before he turns it off and gives Jaemin a weird look. 

“Go home,” The officer said. He lingered there for a moment before walking away. 

Once the car pulled away, Jaemin turned over to Renjun, “Yeah, no. We aren’t leaving.”

Renjun just laughs and looks after the car that was driving away as they speak.

They go back to playing basketball. Jaemin was more proficient than Renjun at it, due to his natural height. But Renjun tries his best anyways. They get close, the ball dribbling between the two of them, Jaemin a little too close that their heads were almost touching. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, and Jaemin, on the offensive, picks up the ball and in a quick move, tosses it overhead and it lands in the hoop. Not smoothly, it circles around the rim for a moment and then fell through, but he still made it. 

With the ball through the hoop, but the two of them still standing awfully close, Jaemin tears his eyes away from the net and down to meet Renjun’s eyes, who was now standing mere inches away from him. He tilts his head downwards, and felt a heat between the two of them. 

He could do it. He didn’t know what he wanted to do exactly but he could do it. He could reach out and see what it felt like, what he felt like: Renjun. But before he could, the smaller steps away. And just like that, the moment was over. 

But the feeling doesn’t go away. Night after night after night, it doesn’t go away. Even as it transitions into the period between winter and spring, that feeling. The feeling of wanting to spend more and more time with Renjun doesn’t go away. Jaemin could go down to his waist in the lakes now, but that was as far as he could. In the darkness, the murky water sometimes felt as if it would eat him up. Renjun promises him that he wouldn’t let it. And Jaemin trusts him. 

The two talk well into the night, and Renjun tells him more and more each day. Jaemin asks him questions, and instead of limiting him, Renjun answers most of them. Some with hesitation. Some without. 

Jaemin shows Renjun what it feels like to have the typical teenage experiences, and Jaemin experiences them alongside the boy. The night drives with the music blaring. The stupid acts of delinquency they’d do around Yeosan. People who saw them gave him a weird look, but he doesn’t care. 

They go everywhere when the world is quiet and dark, and at times, it felt as if they were the only two who existed. And that’s how they liked it. 

When the morning comes, the spell breaks and Jaemin stands by as he waits for nightfall to arrive again. 

But he doesn’t wait with nothing to do. He can’t deny the change in his lifestyle. Day by day, his parents grow more conflicted with him. On one hand, Jaemin could tell they were concerned. Concerned at the change that didn’t seem to be prompted by anything. At first, they noticed. The eyebags were disappearing. He tells them he gets on average five hours every night, lying and saying he just stays up on his phone. Five hours was plenty for teenagers, they figure. He was talking a lot more, telling them about his day unprompted when he got home from school.

However, what really concerned them was when Jeno’s mother informed them that Jaemin had come over to his place with Mark and instead of staying far away from the hot tub, he had climbed in. It was already a big deal that Jaemin had been spending more time with Mark and Jeno, but it was an entire thing of its own that Jaemin, their son who had trembled at the sight of water for over 9 years, had sat inside of a hot tub without breaking down. 

His parents wanted to confront him. Wanted to ask him what was going on. But more than they were concerned, they were hopeful. Because for the first time in years, it felt as if there was some life in the house. 

Mark and Jeno couldn’t believe it either. They knew something was happening. They just didn’t know what. Since it had been so long since Jaemin had actually talked to them, they never really got a chance to see what Jaemin’s personality was like when he  _ wasn’t  _ closed off and quiet, only having vague memories from when they were really small. But Jeno and Mark barely remembered those either way. So they were pleasantly surprised to see that Jaemin, was, how could they put it, a cool person to be around. 

“Jaemin, what’s on your mind?” Mark asks one day during their lunch break. 

Jaemin had been staring at his food, as if in deep thought, but he looked up at the mention, “Do you guys know a person nam…”

And then he stopped and shook his head. He shouldn’t. But he was curious, and he wondered quite heavily, “Never mind.”

“No, tell us,” Mark demanded. 

Jaemin hesitated, but decided to shove his curiosity aside, “I can’t.”

Mark decided to push it, “Do we know a person? A person? Named what?”

Jaemin shakes his head, and Jeno elbows Mark not to question further, but the boy does it anyways. 

“Is this the reason for all of this?” Mark asked, “You met someone?” He looked at Jaemin with wide eyes.

The boy looked away, “Mark.”

It was then that his friend knew his limit and he sat back with a sigh, “At least tell us something. Anything.”

Jaemin doesn’t say anything for a moment, but picks at his food. He usually eats a lot more, but he was in deep thought today. It was times like this where Jaemin wished he could see Renjun during the daytime. 

He then opens his mouth to ask, hesitantly, “What do you two know about my accident.”

Mark dropped his fork, and Jeno blinks at him. 

“You’re ready to talk about this?” Jeno asks nervously. He had seen Jaemin panic before. They all had. And the last thing they wanted to do, after all this progress, was jumpstart it again. 

Jaemin sat back and breathed, “Not really, but I feel like something’s not adding up in my head. I’m getting... clearer flashes, yet for some reason, it feels more confusing.”

Jeno pursed his lips, “We don’t know much about your accident, but maybe you should ask your parents?”

“My parents?” Jaemin thought on it. They would know. They would know for sure, but now that the option is proposed, Jaemin asks himself. Did he want to know? Or was he doing well already, not needing any reminders, “I don’t know.”

  
  
  


Jaemin usually catches Renjun every day at the stream’s edge, but to his surprise, today, he was the first one there. It felt a little ominous without Renjun. Him in these quiet woods, not seeing the white-haired boy in sight. He walks near the water’s edge. Even after all this time, he still didn’t come near this place. Renjun usually sat here, sometimes opting to sit closer to Jaemin instead. But tonight, he wasn’t there.

Jaemin is near the stream. The only reason it was called a stream was because it was less wide than an actual river. But the current was almost the same as one. Strong, powerful. Looking at it sent chills down his back as he really looks at it head on for the first time. This stream. Lots of rocks flooded it and it snaked its way through the forest like a monster at times. Other times, it was more gentle. That was when the tide was lower and the current was slower. 

He turns his head away and looks at the tree Renjun usually is found sitting against.

Behind it was a bush of Datura. He had noticed it before but never gotten close. Jaemin steps forward and kneels down in front of the bush. So this was the devil of a plant that Renjun is in love with. It  _ was  _ beautiful. He had never seen one this close before. It was gorgeous, and shone brightly underneath the moonlight, kind of like Renjun’s hair. He remembered what Renjun told him. To smell it or consume it would mean hallucination and death. So he kept at a distance. 

But his hands still reached out, planning to pluck one from its stem, when suddenly he hears a shout of  _ No! _

Jaemin hears that shout of no, but then he feels something. He feels something that was unmistakable. Absolutely unmistakable. 

A delicate hand grabbed a hold of his wrist. 

A  _ very _ delicate hand, skin cold in the winter air but warming under his touch. Jaemin didn’t turn around. He didn’t move for a moment. He knew the voice. But he didn’t know the touch. Because this was the first time that he had  _ ever _ felt it: Renjun’s touch. 

Renjun’s touch. 

Suddenly, Jaemin stood up until he stands taller than Renjun and turns to look at the smaller, whose eyes were now glued to his own hand wrapped around Jaemin’s wrist. Renjun stared at it, not letting go, with a shocked expression. Jaemin also gives him a surprised one. All these months, and Jaemin had expected the first time they touched, if it ever happened, to be something else. Something sweeter. Maybe a hug. Something like that. 

But it had been Renjun trying to stop him from grabbing a Datura. But in the moment, Jaemin barely even thought of that. 

He just thought of how Renjun’s touch felt. It made the boy feel real. It made Renjun feel real to him. Tangible. A surge of energy ran through Jaemin’s body and he decides then and there that this had been the most electrifying touch he had ever felt, which sounded overdramatic for a wrist grab. But to Jaemin, it was a bit more than that. 

It was the crossing of another boundary, one that he had been pining to cross for forever. To touch Renjun. There was something between them. It was undeniable, and irresistable. Yet still, Jaemin had resisted. He had resisted until now. Now, when, fuck, Renjun touched him.

But as he looked towards Renjun, the white-haired boy’s face was filled with more shock than anything as he stared at his hand still on the wrist and then up at Jaemin with parted lips. It definitely wasn’t a normal reaction. Jaemin looks at his friend now. Beautiful pink lips. Porcelain skin, and perfect eyes tapered off at the outer edges. White hair from the roots to the ends. 

And then Renjun simply says, in a voice that was almost shaking, “It’s cold.”

Jaemin just stares at the boy and then at their surroundings. He laughs. The entire time they had been hanging out with one another, Renjun never complained about the cold once. In fact, he never seemed to notice it. Even now, in the transition between winter and spring when the weather was still absolutely chilly, Renjun only wore a light cardigan from time to time. 

“So now you finally feel the cold,” Jaemin laughs, but Renjun doesn’t find it funny. 

His voice seemed to shake some more, “Your cologne. It smells…” He paused, “nice.”

Jaemin gives him a funny look, “Renjun, I wear the same one every day.”

“I know, it’s just…” And then Renjun stopped, his head turning to where in the distance, the sound of a branch cracked, probably underneath the hooves of a deer or some other animal. Jaemin was a bit surprised. The boy usually never heard those sounds coming from the forest. 

And then Renjun turns back to Jaemin, eyes glassy, “Jaemin.” 

And now, the taller was just confused and he asks a “Renjun?”

But before he knew it, the smaller threw his arms around Jaemin’s shoulder and into a tight, almost desperate embrace. Jaemin did not know what to do. He always wondered what it would feel like to hold Renjun, but he never imagined that it would feel like this. 

His body was small, so delicate in his arms that it felt like it would crumble if he didn’t handle Renjun with care. His hands wrap perfectly around Renjun’s waist, and everything felt perfect. His hands making divots into the smaller’s sides as he holds him close. Renjun’s head buried into his shoulder was also a different kind of feeling. The white-haired man smelled like fresh linen and his hair against Jaemin’s neck felt softer than he could have ever anticipated. 

Jaemin was most confused than anything in the moment, but he understands that something just happened. He doesn’t know  _ what _ , but he knows something just happened. He holds Renjun closer. 

“Don’t touch the Datura,” Renjun whispers in a broken voice into his shoulder as he buried himself there. 

Jaemin holds him but his confusion remains, “Why?”

“Just don’t,” He says, “Don’t touch the Datura.”

Jaemin got the message. But he wasn’t done asking. He had to ask, what the hell was going on. And so he does, “Renjun, you’re touching me.”

And then the smaller pulled away for a moment, but his hands still on Jaemin’s shoulders and he looks up at his friend with eyes that held both secrets and adoration, “I know. I know I am. Jaemin, I’m touching you.”

Jaemin opens his mouth to ask, but before he does, Renjun rests his head against Jaemin’s stronger chest and closes his eyes, “Please don’t ask.” 

And then Renjun pleads once more, “I’ll tell you anything. Just don’t ask about this too.”

Jaemin furrowed his brows. He thought, in the beginning, that he would be able to live not knowing why Renjun was the way he was. But the more mysterious things that the boy did, the less Jaemin was convinced he’d be satisfied with that. Especially now, when there were more no-go questions on the list. 

But he agrees.

He doesn’t ask, because Renjun is in his arms. Renjun is touching him, and it’s not like any touch he’s felt before. And for now, that was all he wanted. 

Jaemin does not know why the sudden change, but after that, the no touch implied rule was out the window. Jaemin couldn’t ask, but he was itching to. He was itching to know so bad what happened that night, and why Renjun suddenly flipped the switch. At first, it was subtle. Very subtle that if Jaemin hadn’t been used to never touching Renjun, he would not have noticed. But the difference, albeit minor, was there. When they walks next to one another, Renjun did not mind brushing arms. When he did; however, he would shiver as if the touch electrified him. When Jaemin wanted to hoist the smaller up onto something or lower him down, Renjun didn’t oppose anymore. Jaemin was glad. There was something about touching Renjun that sent a burning feeling throughout his body. The soft hips covered in cotton on his hands when he would lower Renjun down from a tall jump somewhere in the forests. The delicate fingers that would occasionally brush against his. It made Renjun feel so real and added another level of intimacy to their friendship. He had no idea why there was a sudden change, but he couldn’t find himself complaining. 

How could he complain, when for some reason, touching Renjun felt so good. Everything about Renjun felt so good. His friendship. His voice. His company. His adventures. 

They get closer and closer by the night. It had been 10 years now. 10 years, a month, and 2 days since the incident, and for the longest stretch of time, the flashbacks weren’t all that he thought about.

Renjun tells him things that he didn’t know before. The genus of this flower or another. And he goes into details of his days. Jaemin notices that the boy doesn’t really interact with others, but get most of his anecdotes from observations. He talks about how sad he was witnessing someone breaking up with their boyfriend when he was in the park the other day. And then he talks about hearing a really pretty piano piece that made him feel happy. And Jaemin tells him about his life too. How his grades have been getting better since he was able to pay more attention during lessons now. How he found a hair in his chocolate mousse cake he bought from the convenience store. How his parents keep acting as if someone had possessed him. 

“No seriously,” Jaemin laughs, “You should have seen their face when I told them I wanted to go take a bath rather than a shower.”

“As far as they know, you’re doing drugs,” Renjun giggles.

“Right,” He shakes his head, “They think someone possessed me.”

“Yeah?” Renjun hums.

“Honestly,” Jaemin then looked over to his friend, leaning a bit closer than normal, “Someone has.”

Renjun pushes him. That electric feeling again as he does so. And the white-haired boy shoves him away, “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you like it,” Jaemin grins and ruffled Renjun’s soft hair. He was still amazed that he was able to do this now. 

To that, Renjun just smiles. 

And they continue their strange little friendship. In the night, Renjun restores Jaemin’s soul a little more. And Jaemin opens Renjun’s eyes a little more to what it felt like to be a teenager, all the while experiencing it for the first time himself. It felt as if a weight had lifted off his chest. He hadn’t even realized until now just how much he had been carrying on his soul until after he was shedding it off day by day. He felt like he could breathe again. See how beautiful the night sky was again. Taste the sweetness of an apple again. 

And soon, the subtlety of Renjun’s touches turn not so subtle. They would just be walking through the woods, on their way to some destination maybe within it or outside of it in Yeosan, but sometime in the midst of their conversations, Renjun would interrupt. He would interrupt and ask, almost nervously, if he could hold Jaemin’s hand. The taller was always surprised at this request, this strange request from a strange friend who used to not let him touch him at all, but Jaemin didn’t say no. He couldn’t. Not when he was wanting the same thing. And then, just like that, he held out his hand for Renjun to slip his slender fingers inside and off they go. Renjun’s hands were always a little cold like his own from being outside in his weather, but when touched, they would warm up until their body temperatures matched. 

When they were holding hands like this, Renjun looked around a lot more. He inhaled a lot more, as if taking in the fresh scent of Jaemin’s cologne or the woodsy smell of the forest. He would whip his head at every sound and burst out into song randomly, as if voices sounded more beautiful when Jaemin was around. Jaemin felt like that too, in a way. Not as obvious, but more mentally. When Renjun was with him, things just  _ felt _ better. Maybe not as literally, but mentally, everything was more beautiful. The white-haired boy could make the ugliest scenery look breathtaking just by being in frame. 

Jaemin laughs a lot more when he was with Renjun, and his cheeks sometimes hurt from laughing too much. Sometimes, if they were out in Yeosan, people would give him weird looks for laughing so much at such a strange time in the night, but he didn’t care. They didn’t care. They had each other’s companies when night fell, and that was all that mattered. 

Renjun drags Jaemin by the hand as they sprint through the forests, running in and out of the trees until they end up at wherever they needed to go. 

On one of these nights, the two of them ended up at a lily pond, not too large but not too small. The water was not as murky as most lily ponds, and the two of them could see the shimmering scales of koi fish swimming underneath the surface. 

“That looks disgusting,” Jaemin states blandly. 

“It’s fun,” Renjun shot him a look and then came into the water until it reached the middle of his stomach. He beckons Jaemin in, and the boy who had been so aquaphobic before only needed to take deep breaths now, breathing in and out, thinking of Renjun and feeling safe in the boy’s company with the boy’s voice in his head, and he can slowly wade in after taking off his top and bottom. The lily pads move aside as they pushed through and underneath their feet was the sticky mud of the pond bed. It was definitely not the most comfortable place to play in the water, but anywhere with Renjun felt right. Renjun climbs onto the taller’s back at one point and they move around the pond like this, just talking casually as they go through the water. It didn’t get any deeper so it was easy to feel more comfortable. 

“There’s water snakes in here,” Renjun informs him and Jaemin pushes Renjun off of his back and jumps around in place, as if there were some on him. 

Renjun falls back but catches his balance, laughing, “No it’s okay! They don’t bite.”

But Jaemin was already heading towards shore, “Nope, I’m out of here. You get out of there too Renjun.”

The smaller laughs but he climbs out anyways, joining Jaemin on the bank and wringing out his clothes. 

“You know,” Jaemin says, eying the boy, “You don’t have to keep those on when you swim.”

Renjun stops and looks up at him, suddenly shy, “I have an ugly scar on my back.”

“Is that so?” Jaemin asks, pulling his clothes back on, “How about you let me judge for myself?”

“What?”

“How about you take it off,” Jaemin tells him, gesturing to the shirt. 

But Renjun pursed his lips and shook his head, “Not today.”

Na Jaemin just laughs gently and nods, “Okay, I won’t push it.”

There was some kind of tension in the air and it was obvious. In the not-so-subtle glances. In the light, ghostly touches. And most definitely in the not so light ones. The touches when Jaemin would take a hold of Renjun’s waist when they walk through the downtown streets together. The rubbing of his thumb of the boy’s hand when they take Jaemin’s Mustang out for a spin when it’s 2 in the morning and no one in the suburbs wants to hear the sound of an engine rev.

They become so close that Jaemin forgets the reason why Renjun shows up at the stream every day in the first place. But when he does, it leaves a more and more sour taste in his mouth when he thinks of it. He doesn’t remember exactly when, but one of those nights, after a long day when he had been out with his parents to a small gathering, something they had never taken him on in years due to his past demeanor, he jogs through the treeline to get to Renjun. The social event had been exhausting on his body and spirit, since he was still just adjusting to all of this day by day; however, he had survived. And now, all he wanted to do was be with the person who made his nights worth looking forward to. 

He sees the white-haired beauty sitting near the streamside once more, a Datura in his fingers. 

“Are you sure you’re not just waiting for me now?” Jaemin asks as he arrives at the scene.

Renjun looked over and then smiled brightly, “Jaemin.” 

He said the boy’s name as if it gave him purpose, and a swelling occurred in Jaemin’s chest. 

“Excited to see me?” He laughs as he stands, yet leans back against a tree. 

Renjun shrugs, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I’ll take my guess,” Jaemin replies with a smile. 

And Renjun circles back, “What’d you ask earlier? Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Oh,” Jaemin thinks and then shakes his head, “I’d only been joking. It wasn’t anything important.”

“Tell me anyways,” Renjun requests. 

And Jaemin just shrugged with a smile, “I asked if you’re sure you aren’t just waiting for me now, here by the stream.”

Renjun laughs gently at this, “No, he’s coming, I know he is.”

At this, for some reason, Jaemin felt a odd feeling in his chest and he purses his lips, leaning back against the tree again. 

All these months, and Jaemin still had no clue who this person was. The person that Renjun needed so much that he shows up night after night here. He sometimes forgets about it, but when he does remember, it utterly perplexes him. He felt so blind to the situation, and it frustrated him greatly. Na Jaemin couldn’t help the pulling in his chest when he thinks of whoever it was that Renjun was waiting for. 

And so Jaemin asks, “Stop waiting for him every night. Wait for me instead.”

Renjun suddenly turns his head and looked up at Jaemin with wide-eyes, lips parting to speak and then closing. Jaemin didn’t know what possessed him to say that, but he let it out before he could stop himself. He had never been so blunt with a person before, so he didn’t know what took over him in that moment to be so bold. 

“I can’t…” Renjun says then, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Jaemin furrowed his brows at that and turned away, not sure why the answer struck a cord in him, but he nods anyways while looking off.

Renjun tries to clear that weird feeling in the air and laughs gently, “Are you jealous, Jaemin?”

The boy in question looks over to his friend and gives him a side smile, “Yeah, I think I am.”

“Why?” Renjun’s question came out a little less playing than he intended. 

Jaemin then looks down with a tasteless smile, “I don’t want to feel like I’m just someone you spend time with while you’re waiting for someone else to come back.”

“Jaemin…” Renjun pulls himself up from his spot slowly, “You’re not.”

“And occasionally, I wonder,” Jaemin asks himself, “what will happen when he does finally come back to you.”

Renjun just looks at him. 

“Will you stop seeing me?” Jaemin reveals the question that had been on his mind recently as of late. It was a question that scared him, the thought of Renjun not being there anymore when he comes at night. When one day, he comes to the streamside, and he doesn’t see the familiar head of bright white hair and the eyes that he was growing to miss way too often. 

At first, Jaemin thought he felt this way because he was scared that without Renjun, he wouldn’t be able to move forward with taking care of his mental health. But he thought about it. It had gotten so much better. With Renjun’s help and with his own effort. These days, it was Jaemin who was voluntarily getting into a hot tub whenever he’d be invited to Jeno’s house. 

These days, it was easier for Jaemin to go in somewhere by himself. Although it was easier  _ with _ Renjun, it was becoming the case that it was not impossible with _ out _ Renjun. So that wasn’t the case. 

No, Jaemin was afraid of Renjun not being there anymore because he simply just  _ wanted _ to be around the smaller. He enjoyed Renjun’s company. The adventures. The laughter. The conversations. He even missed them during the day, and he knew that Renjun felt the same. Because if he didn’t, Renjun wouldn’t be asking for a little bit more time together every night before Jaemin leaves. 

If he didn’t, Renjun wouldn’t voluntarily scoot too close to Jaemin even when they had no reason to be. And so now, he just waits for an answer. And for the first time in a long time, Jaemin’s heart was beating for a reason other than his nightmares. 

“Yes,” Renjun responds, voice so soft and pained that Jaemin could hear it from a mile away. 

And Jaemin felt his chest clenching at the thought. Who was it. Who was the motherfucker? 

He looks away, but asks Renjun a simple, “Why.”

Renjun is quiet, and then just continues to look at Jaemin, heart holed up in his sweater, unrevealing. A silence settles between them, and then Renjun breaks it a moment later with a gentle. 

“Come with me,” He says. 

Jaemin looks up, meeting the boy’s beautiful brown eyes, eyes that he hated to think belonged to somebody else. Jaemin was not in the mood tonight, and for the first time, he wanted to call it a night despite just getting there. 

But he lets out a small sigh as if he didn’t care anymore, “Where?” 

But Renjun doesn’t give him a reply. Instead, the boy who resembled moonlight itself comes up to Jaemin and takes a hold of his hand. The touch was magnetic, and then slowly, Renjun walked backwards before turning around and leading them away and into the forest. Jaemin just follows him, not caring what happened at this point. He was getting closer and closer each day to a boy who would leave him for another. And he wasn’t sure if he should go forward or step back now, but Jaemin figures that tonight would not be the night he decides. 

Renjun guides him until beyond the forest, on some end that Jaemin couldn’t point out, they find a large lake. Some islands dot the body of water here and there. Jaemin knew there was a lake here, for the people in Yeosan often use the marina. However, the marina was on the other side of the lake and they were in secluded territory. Under the moonlight, it still looked a little dark. The water. It wasn’t that choppy, so it seemed suitable enough to be in. 

There, Renjun lets go of Jaemin’s hand and it felt like the world had gone muted again. But he walks forward, and keeps on walking until his feet reach the dark water’s edge. And then it goes down to his ankles. Then his calves. His knees. It soaks his pants and the water goes up to his hips. And then, his waist. And there, he stops. 

Renjun turned around and looked at his friend, eyes imploring that Jaemin come join him. The taller man stared back for a moment, before unclenching his jaw and peeling off his shirt, tossing it on the dry bank. He took off his shoes and anything that he didn’t want to get wet and took a deep breath, stepping forward and into the water. It was cold, and black. Gentle lake waves hit against him, but it was still easy to move through the water, up until he was right next to Renjun, merely half a foot away. They hear the sound of night birds cawing, and the gargling of gentle waters. Renjun had his back turned to him, at an angle so that the smaller could see Jaemin when he turned his head. Jaemin just stood there, getting rocked back a little bit by the waves. 

And then, Renjun turned back forward and dipped his hands into the water, reaching under to pull up his own shirt until the white fabric goes over his small waist and then over his upper back, then shoulders, and then it was off. And Renjun releases the shirt until it just gently floats on the water’s surface, sure to end up on the shore due to the gently moving current. 

His back was turned to Jaemin, but it was not accidental. He had completely done it on purpose, for now, Jaemin got to see. Running down the boy’s spine, snaking its way through the back, was a jagged scar. From the looks of it, it had been there for a long time, but Renjun held himself like that for a moment. Jaemin stared at it, and was suddenly filled with an overwhelming amount of sadness. So much sadness that he wanted to stumble. He didn’t know why, but the sight of the jagged line running down the spine made his hands suddenly turn clammy and he took a deep breath. He regained his balance in the water and stared at it, wondering why it struck something in him. 

And Jaemin reached his hand out to trace his fingers along the scar. Immediately upon the touch, he could feel Renjun shiver underneath his fingers, and hears an  _ it’s cold _ . But Jaemin steps closer and continues to feel the scar, wanting to know its story so bad. 

“What happened,” Jaemin asks softly. 

Renjun still stands there, letting Jaemin’s rougher fingers that felt smooth on his skin trace down his back, “Something...happened, a long time ago Jaemin, and I’ve never been the same since.”

Jaemin waits for him to continue. 

“I can’t go into the details, but I want you to know something,” Renjun speaks with a hesitant voice. He looks up at the moon with begging eyes as if he was asking for permission and then turns back around to Jaemin, “I need you to know that there’s a reason why I am the way I am. There’s a reason why I can’t tell you some things about myself. It’s not that I don’t want to be close with you. It’s not that I don’t choose you,” Renjun looked around desperately as if he was scared the wind would snitch on him and then back up at Jaemin, “It’s that I  _ can’t _ . I’m waiting on someone because I have to.”

Jaemin was confused. He was so confused, and if he were anyone else hearing Renjun’s cryptic words, he was sure they would be confused too. There was something ominous about what Renjun was saying. Something dark. He thinks about what Renjun was saying. He wasn’t waiting on someone because he wanted to, but because he had to. He wasn’t telling Jaemin things because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t. 

“No matter what happens,” Renjun looks around again, “I need you to understand that it’s because I  _ have _ to.”

“Renjun,” Jaemin furrowed his brows, “Is everything okay?”

“No,” Renjun says, “But you have to trust me. It will be.”

“Renjun, you can’t just tell me that you’re being forc-”

“It’s not like that. It’s not what you think,” Renjun shakes his head and closes his eyes, “You have to trust me. Jaemin, you just have to trust me.”

“Renj-”

“Please,” The boy begged, “Trust me.”

Jaemin looked at him. There was desperation in his eyes and he knew he wouldn’t get Renjun to budge, but Jaemin wanted nothing more than to be less confused. He felt left in the dark, but he now wanted to know so badly. He needed to know why Renjun was the way he was. What had happened. But also why he was suddenly telling Jaemin this. 

“Renjun,” Jaemin begins, “Why are you telling me this?” 

“Because,” The smaller closed his eyes and shook his head as if pained to think about it, “I can’t stand the thought that you think you’re just someone I spend time with while I wait.”

Jaemin swallowed as he stared at the boy in front of him. 

“I don’t want you to think that you don’t mean something to me,” Renjun says with pained eyes. And then, the smaller reaches over to bring Jaemin’s palm to his face. Out of both desire and instinct, Jaemin caresses it gently with his thumb, feeling the softness of Renjun’s cheeks. His face was so small in his hands, and it was so delicate Jaemin was afraid to break it. 

Renjun inhales deeply then exhales, he closes his eyes and feels the wind on his skin as if only now noticing it, the smell of fragrant cologne in his nostrils, and he opens his eyes again, looking up to Jaemin, “You make me feel alive.” 

Jaemin feels it too. The way Jaemin’s own air that he breathed would feel clearer when Renjun was around. The way the cold biting wind would feel warmer when he was near the smaller. The way colors would feel brighter, smells stronger, when Renjun was with him. Jaemin knew it was psychological, and that the colors didn’t  _ actually _ get brighter, but the fact that it was happening in his head was indicative of a larger truth: and that was the truth that Renjun had something that no one else did. He wasn’t sure what, but there was something about the smaller that was so special, so different, that nothing else felt the same when he was with him. 

“You do too,” Jaemin tells him truthfully, the two of them too close for normal comfort. 

At this, Renjun just looks up at him, and then he gives a small smile. There were still so many questions left unanswered, so many problems still not solved, but neither of them say a word. 

They go around the shallower parts of the lake for a while, unable to see anything through the water because of how dark and murky it was. It was so cold at first, but he got more and more adjusted to the temperature as they continued staying in the water. And time passes too quickly, because before they knew it was early in the morning and Jaemin needed to be home. As they were heading back, they walk side by side for the first time without saying too many words. But Jaemin knows Renjun was there. Because at some point, as they walk alongside one another, Jaemin feels Renjun’s fingers reach out, and slip between his own. 

He keeps them there, and in his head, he wishes that he wouldn’t have to let them go. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was supposed to be a oneshot but ao3 won't let me upload 67k chapter SO it's split in two !!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cont.

  
  


After that night, Jaemin felt like he had a different approach to the whole situation. Ever since finding out that at some point, Renjun was sure he had to leave, Jaemin wanted to do everything that he could to make the boy change his mind. He didn’t know the situation, and judging by Renjun’s pain when talking about it the other night, he wasn’t going to for a while. But even then, Jaemin does what he could. 

Na Jaemin tries to make Renjun want to stay. When their nightly adventures happen to be in the forest somewhere, then Jaemin wades a little closer. Even pulls Renjun a little closer. His hands rest on the boy’s waist a little too often. And if he was feeling particularly risky, in the water, he would lift Renjun up until the boy’s legs wrapped around his hips. It was moments like these, when he had the smaller in his arms and he is seeing the world in Renjun’s eyes and all of the bright moonlight that shone into it, Jaemin feels as if he would be happy never letting go. Renjun’s hands on his shoulders and the way it seemed as if the smaller couldn’t breathe when they were like that tells Jaemin that maybe he felt the same too. 

It was not just physical, because Jaemin knew that he could never convince Renjun to stay if it was just physical. Every night, he stays a little longer than he normally would, just so that he could have another conversation. Hear another sentence from that beautiful voice. Tell another story. Walk another street. 

He comes to the streamside every night with his heart beating fast, praying that he would see the familiar head of white hair. To his relief, he did. And every night, as he approached, Renjun stood up from his spot, dropping a datura, and ran up to the boy’s arms. 

It was almost starting to feel wrong that they only saw each other during the night. Renjun had been his secret, and vice versa, but Jaemin was beginning to find it a little odd that they were getting extremely close with one another, yet had never seen each other once out of the night’s blanket. 

Jaemin shows up one night with an orange between his fingers, peeling at the skin. They say their introductions and he goes and sits back against the tree he was usually at. Renjun today stood up and moved over, making a place in between Jaemin’s leg and his back rested up against the front of Jaemin’s torso. Jaemin moved his arms around Renjun so he could continue peeling the orange as he talked about how Mark got detention again for trying to hit on the substitute teacher. 

“-n’t believe he actually thought that was a good idea.” Jaemin finished with a chuckle. 

Renjun shakes his head at the story, and then they sit there in a peaceful silence as they watch the stream move. It wasn’t as fast today, and the tide was not as high. 

“What does it taste like?” Renjun then asks, nodding his head to the orange that Jaemin was peeling. 

Jaemin gives him a look, “You’ve never had an orange?” 

“I have,” Renjun shakes his head, “It’s just been a while.” 

“It’s sweet,” Jaemin responds, “You want a bite?” He holds out a couple slices and Renjun eyes it. 

Before he could say no, Jaemin hands him the bunch and Renjun catches it. Jaemin watches Renjun hold it to his mouth, and it was only now that Jaemin notices how delicate the boy’s lips were. If Renjun knew that Jaemin was watching, he didn’t show it. Instead, the boy puts a slice in his mouth and eats it. Afterwards, he purses his lips and says in a quiet voice, “It is sweet.”

Jaemin then laughs at the strange reaction, “What do you even like to eat?”

Renjun pursed his lips and talked about it, “My mom makes the best black bean noodles. I liked that a lot.”

Jaemin nods. He wasn’t a big fan of black bean noodles, but he figures to each their own, “What else?”

“I can’t think of anything else,” Renjun says. 

And Jaemin just laughs and ruffles his hair. That night, Jaemin and Renjun don’t go anywhere. Instead, they just stay in that spot with each other, stealing every second that they could before they had to go home. That night, or more like morning, Jaemin decides he doesn’t want to go home at 3 A.M. He stays an extra two hours, and Renjun does not complain. Jaemin buried his nose into the smaller’s hair and takes in the scent of fresh linen. They talk about all that they can, as if afraid that when the sun comes. Jaemin doesn’t want just nighttime to be their thing anymore. He wanted to see Renjun all the time. 

This was when Jaemin finally asks, “Why am I only seeing you at night, Renjun?”

“Hm?” Renjun asks as he plays with the ripped grass underneath them. 

“Why are we only seeing each other at night?” Jaemin asks again, “I want to see you more than this.”

Renjun turned his head up as he lays on Jaemin’s chest as they both lean against the tree, “You’re not sick of me?” He laughs. 

Jaemin shakes his head with a smile, “I’m serious.”

At that, Renjun looks up at him and purses his lips.

“Would you...like to?” Jaemin asks, “See me during the day?”

Renjun doesn’t say anything for a moment, but Jaemin is hopeful. He couldn’t think of any reason why Renjun wouldn’t be able to see him during the day when they were both free. After school or something. They could watch the sunset. Eat ice cream before the parlours all closed. 

Renjun opens his mouth to speak, “That’d be nice, but…” The boy paused, “I’m not allowed to go out during the day. My parents are a little over-protective.”

Jaemin furrows his brows, “Why?” Renjun had never mentioned that before

Renjun shrugs.

Jaemin thinks about it. Maybe it was the incident that gave Renjun the scar on his back. He could understand that. After Jaemin’s own incident, his parents was also scared to let him go out or let him go near water because of his own fear. 

“So that’s why you have to sneak out so late to wait for that one motherfucker?” Jaemin asks, using vulgar language to refer to whoever the hell Renjun was waiting on every night. 

The smaller laughed at that and looks up at the boy, “Don’t call him that.” 

“Why not?” Jaemin asks playfully and then in their position, he wraps his arms around Renjun’s waist from behind and leans down near the white-haired boy’s nape, “He’s taking you from me.”

Renjun, who Jaemin can feel sudden heat coming from, turns back to look at Jaemin. 

Jaemin then thought about his wording and shied away, “Not that you’re not your own person or anything.”

The boy then suddenly laughs at this and lays back, “There’s no reason to be jealous, Jaemin. You’re a lot better than him, more handsome, smarter, more mature.” 

Jaemin smirked at those comments but he leaned his head back, “And yet he’s the one you’re waiting for.”

“Jaemin,” Renjun says softly, “I told y-”

“I know, I know,” Jaemin responds, “There’s a reason, I know. I just wish…”

 _I just wished you would tell me_ . He wants to say this, but he doesn’t finish. Because he knew there was no point in doing so. Renjun wasn’t going to tell him. Because according to Renjun, he _couldn’t_. 

  
  


As the days passed, Jaemin’s life during the day gets a little bit more busy, as Renjun teaches him how to live again. Most nights, he only gets a couple hours of sleep and that was all he ran on for the rest of the day. His flashbacks occurred less and less frequent, but when they did. They were shorter. Yet clearer. It was as if his body wanted him to get better, but not before revealing him the truth. He just wished it wasn’t just so confusing. 

The snippets he was seeing was not making sense. At least in the beginning, when he was getting his nightmares, he could hear a muffled voice that seemed to be one. But now, he was hearing what sounded like a million voices, meshed together in a moaning kind of scream. He’s seeing red right after his brain flashes a jagged boulder. But now he was seeing rain again. He was seeing heavy rain. Muddy banks. A high tide. Back then, when he would experience this, he would wake up, cold sweat enveloping his body.

But now, when he woke up, even after a nightmare, he felt more purposeful. He was going to destroy this part of him if it was the last thing he did. And he destroyed it a little bit more everyday, with every step he takes towards a healthy life. 

He was doing a lot more in school. Little by little, he was getting integrated back into the campus culture. He was able to hold more in depth conversations with people. Not as in depth as those he had with Renjun, but still a work in plenty of progress. He

is grades were faring well in his courses, and it didn't’ feel like all of the teachers’ lessons were muted anymore, muffled in his head like everything else was. Talking to Jeno and Mark was becoming more of a consistent and natural thing to do. He comes over to one of their houses about once or twice a week, or they come over to his. His parents welcome them, relieved that there is more life inside of their previously cold home before. 

Mark suggests the idea of attending a party that night. And Jaemin was hesitant. He had never gone to one, and he feels as if his sudden appearance at a party would draw too much attention. Well, Jeno and Mark end up convincing him, and he finds out that he had been right. It did draw attention. Na Jaemin being there, tall, broad and handsome, was like providing one slab of meat to a pack of starving dogs. 

It was a shock, for most people had grown up in Yeosan knowing Jaemin as that weird kid with a fear of water who never talked to anyone, never went anywhere, yet was _undeniably_ handsome. Jaemin doesn’t like how fake people’s kindness was to him, because he knew that if he didn’t look how he did, then he would be like everyone else who society considered to be ‘weird’ and ‘quiet’: a subject of ridicule. 

That was the thing that Jaemin hated about being put back into this culture. He noticed the little nuances about human behavior that he couldn’t stand. People only like “weird” people if those same “weird” people are also physically attractive. It was horrible. People only think that quietness is “mysterious” when the person who was quiet had a handsome enigma. People only help those with personality disorders and mental illness if the person who suffers from it happens to have socially acceptable traits. 

And then, those who don’t fit that category are left to suffer on their own or are the subject of bullying from the same group of kids who will post on their social medias during anti-bullying month that they are against it. 

And Jaemin hated that. Because if he hadn’t looked like what he did, would the same people go up to him and act as if they cared? If he wasn’t who he was, would the same people find him “a handsome mystery” or would they just view him as any other ‘weird’ kid in school? 

So he feels uncomfortable at the party, but now, he realizes that it was no longer because he was around people. It was because he was around _fake_ people. He was in a strange house, with strange people who pretended to care about him, and that was suffocated on its own. And so he leaves early. He leaves and he goes to a place, to a _person_ , who he knew genuinely cared for him. 

It was a little early to head down there, but Jaemin doesn’t care. He runs out of the suburbs and into the plains, along the treeline and through the oak until he sees him. Renjun, with the beautiful white hair, and beautiful smile. With beautiful eyes that he could easily get lost in. 

When he breaks through the trees, Renjun suddenly looks up, and stands up, not expecting to see Jaemin this early in the night. 

Before Renjun could say anything, Jaemin walks up to the boy and scoops Renjun into his arms. His hands wrap around Renjun’s waist and his head is leaned down buried into the boy’s neck. His larger frame engulfed the smaller man, and Jaemin could feel that Renjun was surprised. But then, he closes their embrace, and Renjun brings his arms up around Jaemin’s shoulder. 

“Are you okay?” Renjun asks softly. 

And Jaemin tells him the truth, “I am now.”

  
  


The next morning, he wakes up to several texts from his friends asking him where he disappeared off to, but he turns it off. He gets ready, and heads down the stairs. He could hear his parents setting up the breakfast table as he made his way down, and he could feel his stomach’s empty sound. 

Jaemin’s relationship with his parents was much stronger; although it was clear they had their reservations. They all talked significantly more now, even running errands together or doing family activities on the weekends. But Jaemin could tell they beat around the bush when it came to Jaemin’s mental condition. 

“Jaemin...there’s rumors going on about you,” His father asked one morning. They ate breakfast together as a daily routine now, contrary to how before, Jaemin would always skip and prefer rather to grab something on the way. 

Jaemin pursed his lips and sat back. There could be many rumors about him. He wouldn’t be surprised at any given one of them. He was just surprised that his dad had the courage to ask, “What are they?”

And then suddenly, his father asks, “What do you do at night?” 

Jaemin dropped his fork on the ground at the sudden question and he apologizes right away. As he scoots his chair back to bend down and pick up the fork, he curses to himself. He assumes a neighbor had snitched or people might have seen him and Renjun or his car driving around at night. He doesn’t know what, so he’ll just play it safe and see if he could lie his way through. He wasn’t sure how his parents would feel about him sneaking out every night to see a friend until 3 or 4 in the morning, occasionally even later. 

“Sleep,” Jaemin says. And he continues eating his food with a clean fork. His parents wouldn’t have known any better. He locked his bedroom door as he leaves, making sure to keep the key under the carpet so he can get in when he comes back home. 

“Sleep?” His father asks, “Are you su-”

But then, his mother reaches a hand out to stop the man and scolds him under her breath, “Don’t push him.”

Jaemin thanked her internally. But he still found it funny. Although they were closer now, his parents still treated him delicately, not mentioning how he got to this point and why, as if they were afraid that if they call it out, it’ll make Jaemin reserved again. 

So Jaemin decides to play around, “Yeah, mom’s right. I might hole up in my room again.”

He watched his father nodded while clearing his throat, “Alright, son.”

Knowing that his parents are suspicious, Jaemin would think that he should be more careful, but on the contrary, he doesn’t care. Just knowing that he may or may not have limited time with Renjun made him eager to throw every precaution out the window and take advantage of every second. Renjun was not the only one who was successfully helping Jaemin out. 

Jaemin had told Renjun that one night that seemed so long ago that because the two of them never had the typical teenager experiences, Jaemin because of his trauma and Renjun because of reasons mostly still unknown, that Jaemin would show him. And that was what he was continuing to do. 

They spend their nights when not in the forest, flying through the streets of Yeosan in the yellow Mustang, a poor choice of car for being inconspicuous. 

“You’ve said you’ve never been on a date before, right? Renjun?” Jaemin asks. 

Renjun purses his lips and shakes his head, “I haven’t.”

“Let me take you out on one then,” Jaemin says suddenly, one hand on the wheel and one arm resting in the medium. 

Renjun sputters, “What?”

Na Jaemin shrugs, “As a friend. Just so we both have the experience.”

Renjun laughs, “But you already been on a date. With that one girl, remember?”

“I’m not counting that as my first date,” Jaemin shakes his head, “It was horrible.”

“You don’t get to pick and _choose_ your first date just because it didn’t turn out well,” Renjun rolls his eyes and smiles at the suggestion. 

Jaemin leaned back in his drivers seat and glances over at his friend, “Okay, fine. Then let me at least be your first date, then.” He asked with a smile.

Renjun tilts his head back and laughs at this, “A fake date?”

“Yeah,” Jaemin shrugs, “I can hold your hand. Take you out. This and that.”

Renjun looks at the man endearingly, as if Jaemin was everything he wanted. Jaemin didn’t give into that thought though. Renjun then tells him happily, “You already do those things though. So have we been dating all this time?” He laughs. 

Jaemin shakes his head at the notion, “Come on. It’ll be fun.”

Renjun keeps a stupid grin on his face and then looks down at his feet before turning to Jaemin, who was driving. 

“Well, if we’re going to do it, then you’d have to ask properly,” Renjun plays. 

Jaemin turns his head to give the boy a knowing look and then smiles to himself before asking properly, “Huang Renjun, would you like to go on a fake date with me?”

Renjun laughs, and the sound was beautiful, “I suppose I would.”

“You suppose,” Jaemin shakes his head in feigned disappointment, “How lifeless.”

Jaemin begins their date by first pulling up to a convenience store in downtown, on the first floor of a high rise, and he gets out of the car. Walking over, he opens the door for Renjun and the smaller takes his hand stepping out. 

Renjun laughs, “What a gentleman.”

They go into the convenience store and grabbing a handcart, Jaemin throws a bunch of snacks and drinks into the basket. They make a ruckus in the store, and the owner gives a weird stare the entire time. He looked less annoyed, and more so weirded. They check out and Jaemin drives the two of them to a small little hill that overlooked the downtown city area. It wasn’t large, but it was homey. There, he reverses his car as that he could pop open the extended trunk of the mustang. Grabbing the snacks and drinks, he brings them to the back and the two of them sit there, legs hanging off the sides looking down at the small little city with the river in the back and the bridge running through it. When they popped open the cap of the drink and opened the snacks, Renjun scooted closer until his legs were touching Jaemin’s. 

Jaemin left his keys in with the engine running so that the radio could still play music as they sit there in the back, and it was a picturesque scene. The two of them on this bluff, in the back of the car with the trunk open and a bunch of snacks and drinks, and music playing from the car radio. This was a good date. But to call it good was an understatement. 

As they sit there on the bluff, Jaemin felt it. He felt it clearly. He felt that he almost wanted this date to be real.

They talked up there for a while and then when they ran out of food, Jaemin asks him if he wanted to go see a movie. Renjun pursed his lips, but then tells Jaemin that he would love that. 

The two of them go to a late night showing. Jaemin parked on the side and it looked like they were one of the only people at the theatre. Screen four was showing Fight Club, an American movie. A cult classic. At the ticket booth, Jaemin asks for two tickets. The late shift worker pops her gum and then tears out two tickets, accepting Jaemin’s money, and then she points to the theatre, “Screen four to your left. When the other person gets here, just tell them to say they’re with you and I’ll let them through.” She said monotonously. 

Jaemin gave her a weird look, “What do you mean? He’s right he-” And then Jaemin looks around. Renjun had disappeared off somewhere but upon further inspection, he spots the white-haired boy going into the bathroom, “Ah, he’s in the bathroom.”

“Oh,” The woman nods, noticing the bathroom door just closed, “Then he can just go into the screening when he gets out.” 

Jaemin nods and heads inside without Renjun. 

The movie had been good, but it was hard to pay attention to that when Renjun’s head was leaning on his shoulder. It was sweet, and Jaemin wanted to chuckle at how cute the sight was. Jaemin holds his hand, like a proper date, and whispers to him throughout the entire movie about the plot, having watched it before. 

“This movie has a crazy plot twist,” Jaemin whispers in the middle of it, and Renjun hits him on the head.

The smaller scolds him, “Well now I know there’s a plot twist, so it’s not shocking anymore.”

Jaemin shrugged, “It doesn’t need to be. Sometimes, it’s scarier when you know something’s coming, and you just have to wait for when.”

“Since when were you a movie connoisseur?” Renjun rolls his eyes. 

“Since I spent ten years holed up in my room with nothing else to do,” Jaemin laughs. 

Renjun smiles at this and then looked over at his friend, “Look at you. You can joke about it now. Remember how sensitive you were about it in the beginning?”

Jaemin shot him a look, “Remember how _in_ -sensitive _you_ were in the beginning?” 

Renjun pursed his lips and then shrugged, turning back forward, “Anyways, back to the movie.”

And Jaemin laughs. 

They end their date driving around the city, after the movie. There weren’t too many streets to loop around like there were in bigger metropoles, but still enough for the two of them to have good conversation in the front seats of Jaemin’s mustang. It was nice. This date. This fake date. Jaemin didn’t want it to end. He wanted to ask Renjun if he felt the same way, but he didn’t have to. 

The boy told him right when Jaemin dropped them off, ending their night in front of Renjun’s house. They sat in front of the driveway, not directly on it in case Renjun’s parents could hear. Lights turned off and engine off as well. It was time to go, but the two of them still sat there, not wanting to leave. 

“I had fun tonight,” Renjun says finally. 

Jaemin chuckles at his friend, “What a basic line to end a date with.”

Renjun just shrugged with a smile, “Well, I have fun every night.”

Jaemin smiles at this. He did too. 

And then Jaemin pushes it, “You know what else is basic to end a date with?” 

“What?”

“A kiss,” Jaemin jokes. 

Renjun rolls his eyes but smiles goofily, tilting his head to the side. He pauses for a moment and they just kind of playfully laughed at each other before Renjun clears his throat for a second and tells Jaemin, “Give me one on the cheek then. Come here.”

Jaemin looks for him for a hot second, and then he laughs. Renjun purses his lips, and then was about to back away from embarrassment. But then Na Jaemin leans in, “Closer,” In a low voice, and Renjun abides. 

He rolls his eyes and playfully brings himself closer, sticking his cheek out. 

Jaemin knows that Renjun could feel him getting closer, but then, instead of what Renjun expected, Jaemin brings a gentle finger up to tilt Renjun’s chin suddenly towards him in one simple motion and instead of his cheek, Jaemin closes their distance and ends up kissing his lips. 

My god. His lips. Jaemin did not expect them to taste like that. Like nectar from the gods. Perfect. Sweet. Just right. It was quick. A little bit more than a peck, but nothing too deep. But just enough for Jaemin to feel utterly stunned by how good he tasted. 

Jaemin then pulls away to see a shocked Renjun, and he shrugs his shoulder, “If we’re going to end this date, we have to do it properly.” 

Renjun just stares at him in disbelief and then brings a finger up to his lips, “That was my...first kiss.”

Jaemin laughs and looks down at his hands on the wheel, “That was mine too. I guess we checked off two typical teenage things. First dates. And first kiss.”

Renjun still had not come down from the shock but Jaemin watches as he shakes his head, as if clearing the thought, and then the boy looked at Jaemin with wide eyes, “You’re crazy, Na.”

“You hurt me,” Jaemin joked with feigned hurt and then he shoos Renjun out, “Now go.”

Renjun just shakes his head as he opens the door, “You’re crazy.” He repeats. 

But Jaemin knows he didn’t mean it. He knows because as Renjun was walking away, Jaemin spots it. He spots it. An uncontainable smile at the edge of Renjun’s lips. Jaemin goes home with a similar one of his own. 

  
  


They act like fools for the coming weeks. The two of them. Not that they weren’t before, but they both really up the antics this time. Jaemin wanted to give Renjun as many experiences as possible, and Renjun wanted to give Jaemin as much encouragement as possible. It was like they were taking care of each other in a way. They go to more bodies of water. Coves. Tiered creeks. Even wetlands. And each time, Jaemin finds himself caring less about the fact that he was in water. And more about the fact that he was spending this time with Renjun. 

This was living. 

And they go do more stupid teenager things. It felt like a coming of age story happening right in front of their eyes. They sneak into a construction site and climbed the crane. That time, they had gotten caught but by the time the officer could find the hidden entrance that they had used to get inside, the two had climbed down and disappeared, trying hard not to burst out laughing as they did so. They climb up the fire escapes of apartment buildings, until they reached the roof and then yelled out into the empty air. They have all the experiences that teenagers have, to catch up on lost years for the both of them. 

Every day, the two of them feel more and more alive. Alive in the night, that was when they thrived. Jaemin has a new air in his walk, confidence, they called it. It was attractive, and people in school knew it. But he didn’t care for any of them. His mind was looking forward to the nights. For the first time in his life, Jaemin felt as if he was in a good place.

“I’ve never gone skinny dipping,” Renjun says one night as they were driving through the edge of downtown. 

Jaemin laughs, “I haven’t either.” And then, eying a building in the far distance, he drives for a couple minutes before parking on the side. 

Renjun climbed out and looked at the building. It was a hotel for anyone coming through Yeosan. About 13 or 14 stories, the average size for a hotel. But the reason they were here was because right there, beyond the gate of the hotel courtyard was a pool. Walls of artificial ivy surrounded the courtyard, and at this time of night no one was out to watch. Renjun and Jaemin crept alongside the wall, until they could feel the cool metal of the gate. Hoisting himself up, Jaemin pushed himself over until he was on the other side, and then unlocked the gate for Renjun. 

The pool lights shone blue at the bottom and casted patterns of light on their faces as they stepped near the edges. Unless someone who worked in the hotel came out through the tunnel of fake trees and out into the pretty courtyard, no one would see them. Jaemin and Renjun stood on opposite ends of the pool. Renjun trailed alongside the edge while not tearing his eyes off of Jaemin, not even as he unbuttons his own shirt. Slowly, and it slides on the ground. 

Jaemin eyes the scar on the back. He feels a buzz in his head but he blinks it away once Renjun tugs at the drawstring of his pants and it also drops to the ground. Legs, smooth and long like the very moonlight his hair resembles. Renjun turns his body at an angle so that most of his back was facing Renjun, not his front. And then, he crawls out of his last remaining piece of clothing. And like that, Jaemin was stunned. A sculpture. Every curve, every inch of skin, everything was beautiful. Jaemin felt his hands get clammy but not for the reasons he was scared of. His eyes raked over the sight. The moving reflection of the pool lights created patterns on Renjun’s body, who looks over his shoulders with shy eyes as he waits. 

Jaemin doesn’t tear his gaze away from Renjun, but he reached down to the hem of his shirt and then pulls it over his shoulders. Toned body. A cut “v”. Broad. Handsome. The shirt lands on the ground and Jaemin lifts his head up a little, making Renjun stop breathing. Some hand work and then the pants fell in a pile under his feet and he steps out of it. And then lastly, he takes off the last piece of his clothing, and he bore all to Renjun. He stood there, staring down at himself and then his eyes raised to meet Renjun’s. 

He knew the boy was staring. Renjun didn’t care to make it less obvious, by the direction his eyes were headed and the way his lips were parted and then swallowed a lump in his throat. Jaemin knew what he looked like. What state he was in. He said nothing. The sight spoke for itself. And then Renjun’s eyes flickered up to meet Jaemin’s own and the taller tilts his head to the side for a moment before stepping down onto the pool steps. He feel the cold water immediately and it sent shivers down his spine. He goes another step. And from the other side, Renjun goes down those steps too. 

The pool was not incredibly deep, so they could meet halfway and still only have it go to their shoulders. And so Renjun meets Jaemin there, no word exchanged between the two. It was a strange moment of intimacy, but neither could pull away it seemed. Jaemin circled around the smaller, who did the same. 

Finally, Renjun looked up to the hotel rooms that had their curtains open, “Do you think they’ll snitch.” 

Jaemin looks up with him, “Maybe.”

“If so, what do we do?” Renjun asks, “Do we run with our clothes or without?” 

Jaemin laughs, “Without. That’s another teenage experience. Streaking.” 

Renjun looks at him with sparkling eyes and a hint of a smile, “You’ve gotten a lot more outgoing, Jaemin.” 

And then he lets out an, “It’s refreshing.”

Jaemin chuckles, “Trust me, I know.” 

They get closer, and suddenly, Renjun’s hands were resting against the man’s firm chest. Renjun smells the deep cologne, and feels the nakedness of his skin in the water. They looked at each other for a moment. 

And Renjun whispers, “Friends don’t do this.”

Jaemin looks down at him, hands on the smaller’s bare waist, “They don’t.”

They _sure_ don’t. They were fools. Fools who did stupid things in the night, like skinny dipping or driving around with no purpose, or sliding down slippery rock slides. Jaemin felt as if he had known Renjun for a lifetime now, yet it had only been several months. 

Something was telling Jaemin. He doesn’t know what but _something_ tells him that they were going towards the end of the road. Things were so good. So sweet. The way he held Renjun in his arms sometimes was so sweet, so good. The conversations they would have well into the morning were too raw, too intimate. The ways they opened each other’s eyes to different things, unlike any other. Things were so good, that Jaemin knew. Jaemin knew that nothing this good ever lasts. So he savors it while he can. 

He savors these kind of perfect moments, because in his chest he feels it. Thunder was about to come for them. He could tell by the way Renjun was holding him tighter these days, as if he knew he’d be gone soon. He could tell by the way Renjun looked at him a little longer these days, as if trying to remember his features. And Jaemin didn’t even know why. The more time had gone past, the more he feels as if he was not okay with it. Not okay with not knowing these secrets that Renjun kept. 

With Renjun, he felt something deep. Something sincere that he never felt for anyone before. It was more than simple affection. Because when he was around the white-haired boy, nothing felt wrong in the world. Simple affection couldn’t do that. When he was with the boy, he was a better version of himself. A happier version. Simple affection couldn’t do that. He liked Renjun more and more by the night, and in turn, he disliked their secrets more and more by the night also.

  
  


February rolls in, and the fourteenth had arrived. Just like many places, Yeosan celebrates love on this day. And Jaemin at this point recognizes and faces some facts. He likes the way Renjun smiles so much, that he might as well love it. He likes the sound of Renjun’s voice so much, that he might as well loved it. He likes being around Renjun so much, that he might as well love it: the company. He doesn’t know why he laughs himself as he thought that. It was like his body knew he was understating it. Understating how he felt for Renjun. And there was no one else that he could say he felt the same for. He knew that he at least loved Renjun as a friend. 

How could he not. Renjun was a person who came into his life on a foggy night out of the blue and swept him away to a world where fear is something of a friend rather than an enemy. To a world where the night blankets them and allows them to be who they want and cultivate themselves to a person they wanted to become. 

If he knew nothing else, then he at least loved Renjun as a friend. It was just mere coincidence that he also loved the way the boy laughed, the way his eyes shone in the moonlight, the way he made Jaemin feel. He laughs at himself again. He was being tupid, wasn’t he, he thought to himself. Just a friend? His mind laughed at the notion. 

Valentine’s Day was not as beautiful as it should have been. THe moment he woke up, looking out the window, the sky already looked a bit miserable. The clouds were scattered and gray, and the blue was a bit dimmer than usual. There was something in the air, and he wasn’t sure it was love. It felt like warning. It didn’t make sense. How could someone feel a sense of warning in the air, but for some reason, he just did. It was a little ominous, but Jaemin pushes it to the back of his mind.

When the morning came and Jaemin sat down for breakfast, his parents immediately asked. 

“Do you have any plans for Valentine’s Day?” His mother inquired, curious to see if her son, now more outgoing in Yeosan, had any love interests. 

Jaemin pursed his lips, “I don’t think so.” 

“Ah, in that case,” She says while wiping her mouth, “Would you like to come with us to have dinner with the Parks at 6:00 this evening?” 

Jaemin figured he had nothing else to do so he just nodded in compliance, “Sure.’

He finishes eating breakfast and bids his parents his farewells before heading out to school. He wonders if Renjun was already in class, unsure of what time his school started. Renjun was beautiful, and he wouldn’t be surprised if the boy was flooded with Valentine’s gifts. But then, Jaemin remembers the boy’s confession of his social life and thought maybe not. Jaemin frowned at that. Well there was one thing for sure, Renjun would get at least one valentine this year. Jaemin tongues his cheek and thought, even if it was just as a friend. 

Na Jaemin, on the other hand, gets plenty. He didn’t want any of them. He receives them throughout the day, from people who he had talked to only several times but not enough to deserve this. In the previous years, he had received plenty too, but he had never accepted them, being closed off in his shell, and in turn, upsetting the people who gifted him things. Today, Jaemin smiled politely and accepts the gifts before allocating them to his friends. He wasn’t a sweet tooth, and he didn’t care too much about cheesy letters from people who didn’t know him. 

Throughout the day, he gets this uncomfortable feeling in his gut. And he drifts off into thought a little too often. There was something in the air. He wasn’t sure, but it was there. It’s been feeling that way all morning. He asks his friends if they felt it too, but they feel nothing. Jeno tells him that it was probably just the weather. Not as sunny as anyone would like it. Jaemin nods, and dwindles it down to that too. But still, it stays. The feeling. 

“You got a date tonight, Jaemin?” Mark asked between bites of his breaded chicken sandwich. 

Jaemin just gave him a side grin and shook his head, “Not exactly.”

But as he was driving home from school, Jaemin thinks about what would even be a good gift for Renjun. He thinks to the things that Renjun had told him before, and then has an idea. Turning the car around, he gets out of the suburbs and heads to a flower shop. Thankfully enough, it wasn’t completely sold out today for Valentine’s day, but had just enough that Jaemin could pick a pretty bouquet. 

He thinks about what Renjun would like. The boy loved white. His white hair. His changes of white or light blue clothes. And so Jaemin chooses a primarily white bouquet, with white roses, white baby’s breaths, white hydrengeas, spiral eucalyptus, and white oriental lilies. He knew Renjun would appreciate this, especially with his love for gardening and flowers. Jaemin knew that Renjun could look at any of these and tell him things he never known about them, or its symbolism. 

As he paid for his arrangement and sits in the driver’s seat of his yellow Mustang, Jaemin wonders. He wonders what would happen if he showed up at Renjun’s door and gave it to the boy himself. He was sure he’d encounter parents but that wasn’t too big of a deal, unless they were as overprotective as Renjun made them out to be. It would be the first time they had seen each other during the day, and the thought excited Jaemin to a degree. 

Before he knew it, his car was hearing towards the house that he always dropped Renjun off when they would spend their nights in downtown or so. He remembers the street and pulls forward until he hees the familiar two story house. The sight of the house made him feel queasy, and he didn’t even know why. 

Jaemin parks in the driveway for the first time rather than sitting out on the curb, and for some reason, he was feeling incredibly nervous. He held the floral bouquet in his hands and walked up the door, ringing the doorbell. He felt cheesy, which was not really his thing, but he knew for Renjun, it’d be worth it. 

He waits there for a moment, before the door opens slightly, cracked only a little bit so that a woman with chest-length black hair and solemn eyes looked back at him. Renjun had some of her features. Her face shape. Her chin. Her slenderness. At the sight of Jaemin, the woman’s eyes widened and her lips parted. 

Jaemin, finding it kind of awkward, clears his throat, “Hi Mrs. Huang? I wanted to s-”

“Na Jaemin?” The woman asked, voice soft. The softness resembled Renjun’s in a way, yet it seemed more sad.

And Jaemin pauses. He assumes that the woman knew him because maybe Renjun had mentioned him before. Or maybe it was wishful thinking, Most likely, she had just heard of Jaemin due to the fact that many people in Yeosan knew. It spread around. How strange the Na boy was. The odd behaviors that the Na’s only son exhibited. Jaemin felt a little embarrassed that it might have gotten around to Renjun’s parents. The woman left the door only slightly cracked, so Jaemin could see nothing to it. 

“Yes, that’s me,” Jaemin replied, standing on the doorstep with flowers in his hands. He felt awkward, as the woman looks him up and down.

The woman stared at him for a moment, observing his features. Everything from the height to the face, “You’ve grown.”

Jaemin felt confused by this. Did she know him? The entire vibe of the house and the woman felt so strange, but Jaemin just responds with, “Yeah, a littl-”

“What are you here for?” She then suddenly asks.

Jaemin was taken aback by the sudden question, and he wishes that maybe Renjun hears his voice coming from the front door or something and saves him from this weird exchange. 

Jaemin looks around then tells the woman, “These are for Renjun. Do you know where he is?”

She pauses at the mention and blinks at Jaemin, “...Renjun.” She repeats. 

And then she goes back in her house, before coming back with a pen and a pink piece of paper. Then, scribbling something on it, she hands it over to the strange boy on her porch, “Here’s the address. Third row. He’s there. On the corner of 2nd street and the gas station.”

 _On the corner of 2nd street and the gas station_. Jaemin remembered Renjun once telling him that although he stayed at his parent’s place most of the time, his legal residence was there. He finally remembers it now after his memory being jogged. On the corner of 2nd street and the gas station. He found it a bit odd. Didn’t Renjun tell him that his parents don’t let him go out during the day? But he doesn’t ask the mother for questions. 

Instead, he just thanked her and wished her a good evening. As he leaves, he couldn’t shake a strange feeling in his gut. 

Jaemin opened his phone once in the car with the intent of putting in the address Mrs. Huang had given him, but upon doing so, the boy noticed it was almost 6 P.M. 

Fuck, he had that dinner tonight that he promised his parents he would attend. Jaemin looked over at the flowers. He didn’t have time, so he made a promise to bring them tonight and in the meanwhile, leave the bouquet in a bit of water. 

  
  


When Jaemin shows up that night, he walks forward hiding the bouquet behind his back. As he approaches closer, the white-haired boy stands up and looks at him. The white-hair boy gives him a strange look, but Jaemin has a mischievous grin on his face. It was dark outside, and the moon was not as bright as usual since it would be going into its new moon phase soon. However, even in the darkness of the night, their eyes could adjust well enough to see each other. Renjun adorned a flowy shirt, the color of cream and made of chiffon that blew a little bit when the wind picked up. Jaemin thought it looked beautiful on him. 

The smaller gives Jaemin a sly expression as he tilts his body to the side a little bit as if to see what Jaemin was hiding, “What do you have there?”

Jaemin looks up to the moon as he if didn’t know what Renjun was talking about, “Oh, nothing.”

“Nothing?” Renjun asks with a grin. 

“Nothing,” Jaemin says looking back down at the smaller who had gotten closer, “Just a little…” He brings the beautiful bouquet around, “...Valentine’s Day gift.”

Renjun looks at it. All of the pretty white frills and filler green plants that accented the white of the flowers. Hydrangeas, lilies, roses. It was beautiful, and he knew that Jaemin didn’t get him flowers just to get him flowers. But Jaemin got him flowers because he knew. He knew how much Renjun liked them. 

He took a hold of it with gentle fingers then looked up at his friend with shining eyes and a smile upon his lips, “Is this another teenage experience you wanted to give me? Getting a Valentines?”

Jaemin shakes his head, “No. No pretenses,” He smiled, “These are just for you.”

Renjun gazes at him with eyes that could fulfill any soul, “Jaemin…”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” The man continued. 

But Renjun shakes his head, reaching one hand out to grab onto Jaemin’s. Sudden chills run down Jaemin’s spine and then warmth. And the smaller speaks, “Why wouldn’t it?” 

And then Renjun asks him, “What if I want it to mean something?”

At this, Jaemin stares at him. He does not doubt for a second that he was looking at one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. But it extended beyond the physical. Renjun was not just a pretty face. He was a pretty soul. _Fuck_ , Jaemin knew this feeling was not normal. 

“Then we can let it mean something,” Jaemin tells him.

Renjun smiles up at him.

“Thank you,” He then says and then next thing Jaemin knew, Renjun placed himself into his arms. And right here, right then, Na Jaemin felt like all that’s lost has been found. All the perfect pieces fell in place.

They venture out into a smaller lake that night, with waters black and murky. Renjun said he had never been here before, so it would be a new experience for the both of them. Stripping down to their basics, the two of them wade in the front part of the lake. The ground beneath wasn’t as smooth as other bodies of water they had been in, and had varying levels of flooring. At times, it sudden got deeper and at others, it suddenly got more shallow. So the two stayed near the front to stay safe. And they talk. It was sweet. It was beautiful. It was perfect. Renjun tells him about his day, and Jaemin loved to listen. Listen to Renjun rant. The pretty voice that pulled him out of his darkest dreams. He listens to Renjun talk about anything, from a flower he thought was pretty to how he felt about modern art. 

It looked like a normal night, but the feeling in Jaemin’s gut persisted and told him that it wasn’t. It told him that maybe his guard shouldn’t be kept so low tonight. He pushes the feeling away and tries to focus on their conversation at hand. At some point, Jaemin tells Renjun about his journey today. 

“I came to your house originally to give you the flowers,” Jaemin mentions casually, bobbing up and down in the slightly choppy waters. Above them, the moon was a bit clouded over.

At that, Renjun seemed to suddenly whip his eyes up to his friend, “What?” 

Jaemin turns towards him, “Yeah, I thought it’d be nice to give it to you earlier on so I came to your parent’s house.”

Renjun looked at him with wide eyes as he waited. 

“Your mom opened the door, and Renjun,” Jaemin figures he’ll mention, “No offense, but she’s a little weir-”

“What’d she tell you,” Renjun suddenly asks, voice a little frantic. 

Jaemin pulls his brows together, “Um, she just told me that you weren’t home. And gave me the address of where you were.”

“Don’t go there,” Renjun says panicked, suddenly reaching out to take a hold of Jaemin’s shoulders, “Don’t go there. Please. Promise me, you won’t go there.”

“Renjun, why?” Jaemin gave him a strange look. 

The amount of mysteries that the smaller was keeping from him was adding up by the week, and he wasn’t sure just how long he could go without asking someone else just so that he could know why exactly this boy was hiding all that he was. 

“Just don’t go there,” Renjun says, voice almost trembling and Jaemin could tell it was serious, “Please, no matter what, do not go there.”

“Renjun, you can’t ju-”

“Please,” Renjun is grabbing on tightly to his shoulders and Jaemin looks at his grip then back at the boy with panic in his eyes. 

“If something bad is happening, then I don’t care what you want me to do, Renjun, I’m g-” Jaemin frustratedly says. 

But Renjun shakes his head, muttering _no, no, no_ before forcing Jaemin to look at him, “Look at me. If you go, something bad _will_ happen. I won’t come here anymore, okay? If you go, I won’t come.”

“Renjun,” Jaemin breathes. Maybe this was what the sky had been warning him about today. 

And the boy in question pleads in a soft voice now, “Please. Don’t go. I want to stay. I want to be here with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Just promise me,” Renjun begs with his eyes closed. 

Jaemin tongued his cheek and looks to the side, “How many more promises will I make before there’s nowhere left for us to go?”

But then he looks at Renjun and sees the pure desparation in his eyes and he hated that wanted to give in. It felt unfair.

Renjun speaks, “Jaemin, you have to trust m-”

“How can you ask me to trust you when you don’t trust me?” Jaemin asked, frustrated.

“I do,” The boy shakes his head, “Jaemin, I do.”

“You don’t,” Jaemin pulls his brows together, “Renjun, every day, your secrets get more and more overbearing. At first, I thought I’d be okay with them. I thought I’d be okay with not knowing what makes you the way you are,” Jaemin then rakes a hand through his wet hair, “But I don’t know anymore.”

“You _can_ be okay with it,” Renjun tries to convince him, eyes imploring.

Jaemin just laughs at him, “But I don’t think I can, though.” And then he clears his throat, “Renjun, I don’t want to just be lonely together anymore. I fucking love being around you,” He reaches a hand up to carress Renjun’s face gently before letting his arm drop, “I love hearing about your day. I love seeing you smile,” It was an intimate statement, but Jaemin does not find himself caring, “I love hearing your laugh,” Renjun looks at him intently, and he knew it. He looked back. 

“But there is something _wrong_ ,” Jaemin then says, voice conflicted, “Something is wrong, and it’s getting harder and harder to live trying to ignore it.”

Renjun looks at him with sad eyes and his demeanor softens, “Jaemin…”

“If you’re going to just deny me again, I don’t want you to finish that sentence” Jaemin tells him.

But Renjun does so anyways. He finishes, “I can’t tell you.”

Jaemin looks at him then. Dejected and upset at the little sense that everything as making, and Jaemin sighs. 

And he drifts backwards in the water, taking steps away. Renjun followed his trail slowly, but the two of them didn’t say anything. Just went around the water side by side. Jaemin was lost in thought. Things weren’t adding up, and he was just utterly confused. It felt as if everyone knew something he didn’t, and the thought irked him. As if he was being mocked by life. He was just continuing to move backwards. He barely looked at Renjun, who was just trailing there near him with the water up to his collarbones, almost his neck. 

He was getting better and better by the day. If Renjun wasn’t here, he would have managed at this point. But the thing is, he _wanted_ Renjun to be here. Here with him, so bad. But not like this. Not when he was only getting only a part of the picture. It ate up at him a little more every day, and with every secret that Renjun adds to the pile, it becomes more unbearable. And it feels even more so knowing that he felt the way he did for the boy. Felt as deeply as he did. 

Jaemin took one more step backwards in the water in the midst of his distracted thinking, but immediately regretted it because there was a sudden drop in elevation and his foot lost hold. 

He immediately started panicking. His heart beat fast and his breathing quickened. His foot had lost hold and he wasn’t sure just how deep it suddenly would get. But in a matter of seconds, a million thoughts ran through his brain and he squeezed his eyes shut. He was waiting for it. The submersion. To this day, he had still not submerged his head, but when he does, he knows it would be the final act that determines his full recovery. But he was not there yet. He was not to that point yet because full submersion was the ultimate replication of drowning, and the thought still quickened his heart rate. But now he was, lost footing. His mind was so clogged that he wasn’t even sure what his limbs were doing. They could be flailing for all he knew. He yelled out in panic, and his heart was beating a mile a minute. But Jaemin waited for it. 

He waited for it. And waited some more. 

He waited until it felt like more than a minute had passed, so long that his limbs began to regain feeling.

But nothing happened. He knew he was moving, but he couldn’t feel it from his mind taking over. Maybe he was drowning already and he didn’t even realize it. But he opens his eyes. 

And somehow, some _way_ , he was treading water.

He was swimming. His head still above waters, but his feet not touching the ground. He was treading water.

Jaemin panicked and his body moved forward and his foot desperately reached until he found elevated ground again and he looks back to the spot he was at with a look of horror on his face. He looked at Renjun who was also staring at the spot; however, it was a strange one. One of mixed emotions. Jaemin couldn’t think about that in the moment. 

Jaemin stares in shock at the spot in the lake as he mutters under his breath _I’m not supposed to know how to swim. I’m not. I was drowning all those years ago because I couldn’t swim. I’m not supposed to know how to swim. I’m not supposed to be able to tread water. I should have flailed._

And then he says it louder, this time, he points to the place while looking over at Renjun, “Renjun, I’m not _supposed_ to know how to swim. I’m not supposed to be okay. I drowned all those years ago. Renjun, just now, I fucking treaded _water_. My head didn’t go under for a second.” Jaemin panics, “I’m not supposed to be able to do that.”

Renjun didn’t say anything.

Jaemin panics again, “Renjun, are you hearing me? I drowned all those years ago. I couldn’t swim. And I have _never_ swam since then. I shouldn’t know how to swim.”

The smaller just looked at him with strange eyes, and Jaemin needed him to say something. 

“Renjun, fucking say something,” Jaemin asks, “I’m panicking.”

His heart beat heavily, and he could not comprehend what was happening. Renjun still says nothing, just stuck to the spot he was at near where Jaemin was before. 

Jaemin mutters to himself in a frenzy, “How did I do that? I can’t swim. I’m not supposed to. I had fucking drowned,” He looked at Renjun desparately, this night not turning out as well as he’d hope, “Renjun, I had fucking drowned.”

And then, Jaemin took deep breaths. Legs feeling paralyzed at the firm spot he was standing on at the current moment. He looks at Renjun, who was still quiet. And for a moment, the two of them sink it in, or so it seems. 

And then, Renjun closes his eyes and asks, so hesitantly, “Are you sure?” 

Jaemin turned his head towards the boy, brows pulled together. What kind of statement was that? It was so ominous, so hidden with meaning. It was almost like Renjun was trying to say something, and Jaemin found himself at a loss of words. What kind of fucking statement was that. 

An unsettling feeling, stronger than before, settled in his chest, and his palms are clenched,, “What the fuck do you mean?” 

And then Renjun backtracked, looking around as if someone was listening, “Never mind. Nothi-”

“No,” Jaemin affirms, “No. You tell me right now. What do you _mean_.”

“Jaemin, I’m not even sure what I meant,” Renjun says looking away, “I don’t-”

“Renjun, you knew what you meant,” Jaemin accused, “No one just _says_ that. Now tell me what you mean by _are you sure_.”

Renjun looked conflicted and he looked around, “Jaemin, I was just saying things.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Jaemin was upset, “You’re going to stash this away in your box of secrets too? This is _personal_ , Renjun. Tell me what you mean.”

The boy in question shakes his head and starts sputering, “Jaemin, I’m serio-”

But Jaemin had stopped listening. He had just now noticed something. He had now noticed a very _strange_ something.

Something he had just been in a state of too much shock that he didn’t realize before. He looked at Renjun, but more importantly, he was looking at the area the boy was in. It was in the same vicinity that he had been treading water in earlier, and Jaemin stared at it. He remembers something Renjun had told him back on the first day they met, and now, even more wasn’t adding up. If nothing was adding up before, more didn’t add up now.

He interrupts Renjun with a simple observation, “You’re swimming.”

Renjun stops in his words and then looked down at his place and then at Jaemin. 

But Jaemin continued, “You’re swimming. The first day we met, you told me you couldn’t. Renjun, look where you are. You’re swimming.”

Renjun looked around him, without a word, and then back up at Jaemin, “I’m not.”

“What?” Jaemin just laughs, “You literally are. I was just there, Renjun. You’re swi-”

“I’m floating,” Renjun corrects him then, pursing his lips, “I can’t swim, but I can float.”

“That makes no fucking sense,” Jaemin then says, tired of Renjun’s crypticness, “You can’t float upright.”

Renjun shakes his head, “I’m not. My legs are at an angle, see?” And then he lifts his feet out of the water to show Jaemin. 

Jaemin shakes his head, “Renjun, you’re fucking with me right now. You changed your position just now,” He noticed, and he felt more upset by the moment, “Nothing is making sense. Why would you lie to me about not being able to sw-”

“I wasn’t lying,” Renjun shoots him a look, “Floating is not swim-”

“If this is a desperate attempt to save your ass right now, stop it,” Jaemin pleads with him. He only wanted to know the truth, “Tell me what the hell is going on.”

Renjun parts his lips, “Jaemin, I can’t.”

“And what the _hell_ did you mean when you asked me if I was sure I _drowned_ ,” Jaemin asks, “I didn’t forget.”

But Renjun parts his mouth and gives no answer. He gives no answer for a hot minute. And Jaemin was giving him plenty of time. Ample opportunities. He counted the seconds. And was very generous. But Renjun says nothing. 

For a while, Renjun says nothing. The waters were starting to become more choppy. Its murky blackness not comforting to the soul as he waits for an answer. He feels the wind pick up, and it prickles on his skin but he doesn’t find himself caring. Renjun says nothing for so long.

Nothing but this. 

And when he does, it is the final straw.

He tells him the same line he always did, “I can’t tell you.”

Jaemin was not going to accept that. Not tonight. And possibly, not tomorrow night. Because once again, Renjun is telling him the same thing. _I can’t tell you_. He was done. 

He turns around, and starts heading back towards shore. Making quick work. He walks through the water, it trying to hold him back as if it didn’t want him to go. The waves pulled back at him, and made the path out difficult, but he pushes through. Here he was, enamored with something, _fuck_ , He was probably in so deep with Renjun that he could have called it love and he would have believed it, and faced with this. Here he was, willing to bare it all with the white-haired boy, and he was getting empty questions after questions in return. He gets out of the water, droplets dripping down his torso. 

Behind him, he could hear the boy trying to catch up, legs sloshing through the not so calm water, “Jaemin, where are you going?” He hears.

But Jaemin doesn’t stick around to have this conversation that he knew was not going anywhere, so he just says, “If you’re not going to tell me _anything_ , like you always do, then I’m not sticking around. Keep your secrets.”

He slides on his clothes, not caring that they were sticking to his still wet skin and he hears Renjun getting out of the water too, “Jaemin, no, don’t leave,” He asks, “Please. I don’t have much time.”

Jaemin hears the wind louder tonight, and the choppy waters of the lake screams at him to stay. 

He whips around, “ _Why_ don’t you have much time? _Where_ are you going? And who the fuck _are you waiting for?”_ He frustrated asks the boy, “Are you ever going to tell me these things, Renjun?” He grabs at his own hair, “It isn’t even just that. I don’t _get_ you, Renjun. Why did you lie about swimming. What the hell do you mean by the things you say. Why can’t I go to that place you get frantic about? I don’t _get_ you.”

“Of course you do, Jaemin,” Renjun pleads, hair blowing in the wind, “You know more about me than anyone else does. You ge-”

Jaemin shakes his head, “Don’t you get it? It’s not enough.”

The waves were loud, and the breeze started to howl. It whispers in his ear. But he ignores all of it, and picks up whatever else he brought. He ignores the smaller and starts heading towards the treeline. He is upset. He feels it in his bones, and to the depths of his core. 

But right before he does, Renjun speaks out.

Renjun speaks out in a tone so careful. So genuine, but laced with a million different emotions. 

He speaks, and Jaemin felt his heart stop. Renjun tells him then, in a voice so vulnerable and raw.

He tells him, “But I love you.”

If nothing else could make Jaemin stop in his steps, that would. He stops. And now, it felt like the wind was even louder. Whispering in his ear to stay. The water hits the bank with a louder slap. Even the branches within the forest cracks and leaves rustle. But all he could hear were those words, so mixed with different feelings. He hears those words swirling in his brain, repeating a million times before cementing itself. He wanted to ask again. He wanted to ask again for the boy to repeat himself, but he just stood rooted to his spot. _Love_. He simmers over the word, and rewinds he moment ten times in his head. Rewinds so that he could hear the genuinity. Hear the rawness. 

So that’s how he felt. Jaemin thought. So that’s what it was. Between them. All of these months, and it had come to this. All of those nights spent running around the forests, side by side, under the moonlight where they were each other’s escape and salvation. All of those stupid adventures in Yeosan that seemed so silly on the outside, but felt so intimate between them. Stealing a shopping cart from a grocery store parking lot, so that Jaemin could push Renjun around in it at blazing speed down a sloped asphalt road. All of the conversations that lasted until the wee hours in the night. So that is what it cultivated into. _Love_. Jaemin was not surprised, per se, because when a feeling so new, so foreign, yet so deep enters your body, it was obvious that it wasn’t just a normal emotion. 

But even now, as Renjun says this, Jaemin realizes something. It wasn’t enough. Love was beautiful. _Fuck_ , it was beautiful. And if he could spend the rest of eternity in Renjun’s embrace, he would. If he could look into those eyes for ever, he would. If he could run his fingers through those soft white locks, he would. Love was exciting. It filled his soul with ecstasy. It healed his deepest wounds slowly. It gave him strength that spread to every other part of his life. 

But love is not the _only_ thing that a friendship, or relationship needs. It needs trust. It needs confidence. Love is amazing, but not when it was ridden with secrets and gone through blindly. Secrets that struck a little too deep, raised a little too much caution, caused a little too much problems. A love ridden with secrets is a love bound to fail.

And so, Jaemin turns back around to Renjun for a moment. The white-haired boy had slipped the shirt back on, and in the wind, the flowing fabric and white hair made Renjun look hauntingly beautiful. 

And Jaemin asks him then, “If you love me, then also trust me,” He demands, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on? Or not.”

Renjun does not speak. He opens his mouth as if he wanted to, but he couldn’t. His feet play with the sand underneath and rips out the small weeds on the surface with his toes. He didn’t say anything, but his eyes looked absolutely pained. And goddamnit, if Jaemin didn’t want to go tell him it was okay. But he didn’t. 

Because Renjun’s silence was enough. 

And so Jaemin speaks, “If not, then know something, Renjun,” And it pains him to say his next words, “Love isn’t always enough.”

He turned back around, and then, he left. 

  
  
  
  


Jaemin does not come back the next night. Or the night after. He was going to wait. He was going to wait until the smaller tells him first. And waiting, Fuck. it hurts him more than he could afford to admit. 

For the first time, he’s living solely during the day, and at night, he itches for something more. For someone more. He wonders if Renjun is out there, waiting. Waiting for him? Or waiting for someone else? The thought hurt, and he tries not to focus on the last words that Renjun told him. _But I love you_.

The ‘But’ in front. He could tell Renjun was trying so hard to make him stay, and he could tell Renjun was telling the truth, but he wasn’t telling the _whole_ truth. And there was only so much that Jaemin could take. Another thing was that Jaemin felt like something else was holding Renjun back. Something besides his own conscious, as if the boy _couldn’t_ tell him. But even if that were the case, however that would work, the effects were still the same. He was left in the dark. He was left in the dark, and no matter how much he felt for Renjun, he couldn’t handle it. He missed the white-haired boy with all of his being, and my god, if he didn’t want to leave through the back porch every night. To run past the quiet, solemn suburbs of Yeosan. To trace along the treeline until he finds the part thin enough to spot Renjun through. To go near that stream, which to this day, made him so uncomfortable, but he’d do it anyways for Renjun. To spend his company with the boy. He wanted to so bad. But he couldn’t. Not with the way they left off. Not like this. 

His body laid in bed for the first time for a full night, but he doesn’t sleep. He itches to be somewhere else. By a stream that still made him uncomfortable, but with a boy who always made him feel _too_ comfortable. In the forest, walking alongside said boy. In the city, making foolish decisions. 

Jaemin knew that his parents could feel something was wrong again, and he knew they were afraid. They were afraid that he was reverting, but he assures himself that he wasn’t. No, this was not a symptom of his post traumatic stress. This was a symptom of his heartache. This was a symptom of getting his heart torn by someone who seemed to keep some of his to himself. 

Jaemin seemed distracted in class, and always seemed to be in his thoughts. His head was full, and his friends knew it. He listens in class and in conversations with people, but he doesn’t say as much. Stuck in thought. Confused. Everything felt a little bit more empty. It hadn’t been long, and it was a constant battle every day not to go to Renjun. 

But he wouldn’t. Because something was so _fundementally_ wrong. It was unsettling, and there was something _so_ wrong, and he just didn’t know what. He just knew something was off. And they couldn’t continue like this. Continue a friendship embedded in a sea of secrets. Especially when the secrets struck too deep, as they did the other night.

“Toxicity in plants and animals,” Mrs. Fan writes on the chalkboard, “Chapter four, section six.”

The class turns to the page. Jaemin fishes his biology textbook out of his pack. This was one of his least favorite classes, taking up his afternoons when he gets home from school with homework. The previous week they were learning about defense mechanisms within plants and animals, which he had surprisingly aced the quiz on. 

So today, he sits there, trying his best to catch up on notes. Mrs. Fan writes fast, and speaks even faster. If he blinked, then he’d miss something. The woman blazed through animal toxicity. Different types of snakes, and where their poison comes from in an anatomical standpoint. The difference between venom and poison, and how they both fall under the umbrella of toxic. And then plants. She had a belladonna on display inside of a small pot, and carefully went around the classroom with it in her hands. She broke down how the toxins of certain plants worked, and Jaemin was writing as fast as he could. 

“-some plants look quite beautiful, but that is the danger in them,” Mrs. Fan explains, “They lure you in thinking you can han-”

“Like daturas,” Jaemin mumbles under his breath, half listening and half reminded of the pretty white flower that Renjun always longingly plays with. 

It seemed as if the teacher heard, for Mrs. Fan stopped in the middle of her teaching and called him out, “Say that again, Jaemin?”

Jaemin looks up from his notes, suddenly aware he was being called on, and he purses his lips before answering, “I said like daturas. Beautiful, but dangerous.”

Mrs. Fan looked impressed by his commentary and nods her head, “Not just dangerous. Deadly.”

And she turns back to the board and writes down Datura, its genus, species, and component, all the while speaking, “Since Mr. Na thought of an example, let’s examine it. I was originally going to have us examine the structure of an Azalea, but a Datura is even better,” And then she turned back to Jaemin, “Good thinking. Can you tell us anything else?”

Jaemin didn’t want to, but he tongues his cheek and remembers what Renjun had told him, “It...came here from North America. It’s also called a moonflower.”

Mrs. Fan hums as she jots down the notes.

“They call it a moonflower because it’s white, like the moon,” _Like Renjun’s hair_ ,” It kind of looks like a trumpet.” He then says, “It’s beautiful.”

He pauses, “if you smell or consume it, it’ll make you hallucinate. And then slowly, death will come.” He tongued his cheek, “It symbolizes the danger of beauty,” He knew this was a biology class and not philosophy yet he couldn’t help but repeat what his friend had told him, “How the most beautiful things, like daturas, like love, like water, can also be dangerous, if handled incorrectly.”

His teacher wrote down the technical parts and left out the metaphors, “That’s a beautiful metaphor, Na. And you’re absolutely right. Not just about that, but about what Daturas will do. However,” She writes on the board, “There is one thing you left out.”

Jaemin listens, “Yeah?”

She rights down _touch_ on the board and then explains, “It won’t just kill you from smell and consumption.” She then reveals, “It will also kill you from touch.”

Jaemin’s brows pull together and he parts his lips to object. There was no way. He saw Renjun every day with one in his hands, and nothing happens. And then he remembers. That night, when Jaemin was about to hold one for himself. The first night Renjun touched him. The boy had cried, _don’t touch the Datura_. His lips part and he was confused. But that wasn’t possible. He had seen Renjun almost every night holding one.

“Mrs. Fan,” He asks suddenly, “Can people be immune to it?” 

The woman paused and thought about it, passing the chalk between her fingers, and then answers him, “Not as far as I know.”

And now, he was perplexed. Absolutely and utterly perplexed. He sits back in his seat and thinks. Thinks of any possible explanation. Anything. 

And he came up with nothing. 

  
  


It gets worse. The picture gets more messy. When lunch rolls around, Jaemin was still thinking about it. He was still thinking about the datura and how in the world Renjun could touch it if it was true that it could kill you. Mrs. Fan had said as far as _she_ knew, there was no immunity. But she was just a high school teacher in a minor city in Korea. How much could she know about daturas? He could ask Renjun. He could go ask. But he thinks of the way they left off. Too many unanswered questions and too much words not spoken between them. He couldn’t just come to ask this question and then leave. Especially when knowing Renjun,, the white haired boy might not even give him an answer in the first place. 

Thinking of Renjun hurts, because how could it not? How could it not hurt when the most important person in his life, even more so than his parents at this point, a person who had raised him from the depths of the hell that was his mind and into the good space he was now, was so far from him mentally. He felt as if he was knew Renjun for a lifetime, except some of the bigger pieces were missing. And those missing pieces were _important_. Love cannot survive without trust and confiding. 

“Jaemin, what’s going on?” Jeno asks. 

And the boy in questions looks up, unsure of how to answer this. What _was_ going on. He didn’t even know the answer himself. He was in a state of utter confusion. And it looked like the only person who had the answer was the one person he couldn’t talk to at the moment. Nothing was making sense in his head. 

He responds, obviously lying, “Nothing.”

Jaemin wonders if Renjun felt lonely these past few days. It wasn’t been too long since he had left that night, but in his head, it felt like forever. Months upon months of not spending a night away from the white-haired boy and suddenly, he’s thrusted into the night without seeing him once. Jaemin does not go on that walk anymore. He doesn’t need to. He used to walk to get rid of his nightmares, but as those become less and less frequent, Jaemin began going down there just to see Renjun. But now, he wasn’t even doing that. The night laying in bed were suffocating, because it reminded him of what he could be doing instead. It was hard to think of Renjun, and he knew the solution was simple. Just go to him. But it _wasn’t_ . It _wasn’t_ simple. 

He couldn’t stay at home, waiting for the night to pass and so he had gone to Jeno’s house that night, and the three of them hung out until about 1:53 A.M. It had just been casual. Video games and conversation, but Jaemin couldn’t find himself fully invested in either of them. He was so lost in thought that most of the time, he had to be snapped out of it. 

Walking home, he sneaks in through the backdoor and up into his room. He can still see the lights on under his parent’s bedroom door but they didn’t come out if they had heard him. He goes upstairs and unlocks his door with the key underneath the carpet. It creaks open and immediately, Jaemin notices the draft. A breeze that came in. He closes the door gently behind him and turns to look. 

The moon was bright tonight and he knows this because his windows were wide open, and the curtains look ghostly in the wind. That was funny. He knows for a fact that he had closed them. The breeze sent chills down his spine and he walked over to close it. It shuts with a crack and he curses at the loud sound.

When he turns around, right there on his bed, he sees it. A white rose, with something clipped to it. He knew who had been here, and he wasn’t sure whether to feel creeped out or relieved. Relieved that after a dry spell, he was getting word from Renjun. Jaemin prays it was an explanation, an apology with a promise, anything of the sort. But it wasn’t any of that. 

Jaemin sits down on the edge of his bed and sets aside the white rose. The thorns hadn’t been clipped off so one scratched him a bit. There was just one item attached. A note. He picks it up and reads it. 

_I’m ready to tell you, but after that, I’m leaving for good._

_Meet me tonight at our usual._

_And remember, Jaemin, you make me feel alive._

That was all. A cryptic message. Leaving for _good_? He doesn’t understand. Was the person Renjun had been waiting for coming tonight? He remembers the boy telling him that when that happens, he was going to leave. At this, Jaemin felt his heart pound a little bit. Renjun was leaving? 

He panicked. He knew that it was him who had left that night, but knowing that Renjun was leaving _for good_ sparked another fear in him, and he reaches for his jacket. It was a cold night, and he wasn’t going out without one. Renjun was ready to tell him, and if after that, he could make him stay, then he would. Jaemin feels a sense of urgency and without taking any precautions to make sure he was quiet, the boy opened his door and made quick steps downstairs, not sure if he was being quiet or not. 

Jaemin ran past the dining room and towards the back door, but right before he could, a hand clasped around his wrist and pull him backwards. 

Jaemin whipped his head around to come face to face with his mother and then from the back coming out of the bedroom was his dad. 

“Jaemin,” His mother said exasperatedly, “So this is what you’ve been doing? Sneaking out?”

His heart was still beating fast and he knew he could deal with this later, “Mom, dad. I _need_ to go. We can talk about this later.”

His mother does not let go, but his father comes around and locks the door, “We can talk about this _now_.”

Jaemin was tempted to run and unlock it himself, but he knew that with his dad in the way, he would have a struggle. Jaemin was big. He was broad, and could take care of a lot of people. But the thing was, so was his father. He would not be able to get past the two of them, but he begs anyways, “Mom, Dad, I’m serious. I _need_ to go.”

“No,” His mother demands, and drags him by the wrist. He was stronger than her, and he stays rooted in his place.

“Mom, Dad, I _need_ to go tonight, Ple-” He firmly spoke. 

“You’ve been sneaking out,” His father says.

Jaemin just throws his hands in the air, “Yes, I have. Look, I can explain later. But now, I need to g-”

His father continues, a look of horror on his face, “So the rumors are true. It _had_ been you.”

Jaemin gives him a look, “What? What rumors?”

His father does not answer him, but instead, begins to look panicked. In fact, both of his parents do.

“We’ve been quiet, but we can’t do it anymore,” His mother almost cried and Jaemin wanted to scowl at how dramatic she was being, “Tell us what’s going on. Just tell us what’s going on.”

Jaemin narrowed his eyes and exasperated, “Is this about how I got better? Because if that’s the case, then I can tell you another day. Just not ton-”

“How you got better, what have you been doing at night, what all those rumors are about,” His mother pleaded, “Just tell us everything. Jaemin, please.”

“ _Not_ now,” Jaemin tried to convince them, “Not now, okay? I need to go.”

He puts his hands on the door, but it closes shut again.

“Where do you think you’re going?,” His mother demanded, face struck with fear and worry.

Jaemin taps his foot and decides that he would just tell them to get them to be quiet and let him go, “Listen, I’m just going down by the stream, near that forest line. Can I go no-”

“The what?” 

Jaemin pulled his brows together. A shocked look was etched upon his parent’s face and he was confused. Was there something wrong? He repeats himself, this time voice unsure as he tried to pinpoint what was causing his parents to react this way, “The...stream. Near the forest li-”

“What are you doing going back there,” His mother asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

Jaemin was confused, and his voice showed it, “Going back? What do you mea-”

His father came up and shook him by his shoulders. They were the same height, but Jaemin felt intimidated regardless, “Why are you _going back_ there, Jaemin. Tell us now,” His voice boomed and Jaemin sees panic and concern in his eyes. 

Jaemin tells the both of them, “I don’t know what you two are going on about. Please, just let me lea-”

His mom looked at him and shook her head, “Jaemin, you going into your friends’ pools or being able to walk past a fountain again. And talking to people again was one thing. Those things we can just be grateful for and not ask. But _this_ , going back to that place, tell us why.”

Jaemin shakes his head, “I don’t understand what the stream has to do with any-”

“How are you able to go back to that stream,” She asked, face filled with horror.

Jaemin’s face contorted, “For the last time, I don’t under-”

“And the rumors,” His mother completely ignored him and leaned against the counter as if the life had been taken out of her, “They’re true.”

Jaemin sputters and wanted this conversation over with, “What _rumors_.”

“That you’re insane, Jaemin!” His mother cried again.

Jaemin asks her, “What are you talking about?”

“We hear it ever where, all the talk,” She says, voice ghastly.

“Hear _what_ ,” He was getting impatient. 

She talks, “People see you at night all the time. They see you everywhere. In downtown. Driving around. Near the river. At the stores.”

Jaemin parts his lips and closes them. Was this what it was about? “Yes, I go there. Yes, I’m sorry for sneaking out. But I don’t see what’s the big deal? How does that make me ins-”

“By yourself.” She spits out, a look of fear on her face, “They see you by yourself, Jaemin.”

Jaemin stares at her then, and he pauses, “What?”

“Talking to yourself. Walking by yourself.” She goes on, “Laughing to yourself. Playing basketball with yourself. We didn’t want to believe it. Why wou-”

“What the _fuck_ are you talking about?” Jaemin didn’t care that he was cursing. He was sick of being confused out of his mind, “I’m never by myself.”

“Jaemin, too many people have said so. You can-” His mother interrupts.

But Jaemim beats her to it, “I’m always with Renjun.”

 _I’m always with Renjun._ The words must have struck a chord with his parents.

Because at that, there was silence. 

There was pure silence. 

Just looking at his parents, Jaemin could see that their blood froze, as they stared at him in shock. 

Silence, so heavy that it seemed to suck the life out of the Na household. Silence so thick that it suffocated everyone who lived within its walls. It was the type of quiet that came when something big was about to come. Something dangerous. Something horrifying. 

Jaemin’s breathing was heavy and he looked back and forth between his parents, whose eyes were filled with both shock and horror. His father opened his mouth to speak, but he couldn’t even do that. And Jaemin looks at his mother’s hands. They were shaking. 

He gives them both a look, still upset, “What?”

And then she asks, almost in a broken whisper, “Say that name again.”

Jaemin parted his mouth and looked at them incredulously. He moved his head around the room and then just blankly gave it to them, “Renjun.”

And that was when his mother began wheezing, shaking his head as if it was hilarious, “Very funny, Jaemin. That’s not possible.”

Jaemin was sick of this conversation. 

She continued, voice more panicked, “That’s not possible.”

Jaemin’s chest heaved and he turned towards the door, but his mother reached out and forcefully pulled him back. He tried to fight against it, but she was adamant, all the while yelling in distress, “That’s not possible, Jaemin. Snap out of it. That’s not possible.”

“What the hell do you mean,” Jaemin roared.

“You couldn’t have seen the Huang kid,” She cried, “You don’t even remember him. How could you have seen him.”

He was blanking out and nothing was making sense, “Mom, wh-”

“It’s not possible,” She says again. 

But this time, Jaemin shouts, not caring if he wakes up the whole neighborhood, “ _What_ ’s not possible.”

“You seeing him,” She raises her tone in desparation. 

“Tell me why” Jaemin demands, a feeling of horror creeping up his chest as he waits for an answer he was sure he was going to hate.

And then his mother shouts back, voice terrified, “He’s _dead_.”

And at that, his mind goes blank. _What_ ? He steps back. _What_?

And his world goes silent. Jaemin’s entire world, in that moment right there, goes silent. It didn’t matter if the electricity was humming. It didn’t matter that his chest was heaving. He didn’t hear anything. He couldn’t taste anything either, except the dryness of his mouth. He was surprised he still had vision. He repeated what his mother said in his head. _He’s dead._

“What?” He asks, voice suddenly lost.

His mothers voice was shaking. His father stood in the back, just observing the scene in shock. She spoke, “He’s dead, Jaemin. He’s been dead.”

 _What_ ? Jaemin was shaking his head. He does not believe her. She was making up lies. He was lying. But why the hell would she lie about this. But Jaemin knew she was. She _had_ to be. She was lying, and Jaemin seps backwards until his back was against the hall and he couldn’t go any further. 

“You’re lying to me,” Jaemin whispers. 

She shakes her head, crying now for a son she was so scared for, “He’s dead, Jaemin.”

“You’re lying to me,” Jaemin shouts this time, voice in a panic, “Stop lying to me. That’s not possible. I felt him. I...see him.”

She shakes her head harder, “Jaemin, stop it. You’re scaring us,” She begs, “Stop saying that. Jaemin, he’s dead.”

“No,” Jaemin refuses to even acknowledge it, “No, he’s not. Mom, he’s not.” His voice gets more frantic. 

There was no way. He shakes his head while backing away. There was absolutely no way. Renjun wasn’t dead. She was lying. She was fucking lying. That was not possible. He could touch him. Feel him. See him. _Taste_ him. Renjun was not dead. This was what happened in movies. Not his _life_. Things like this didn’t happen in real life. He shakes his head. His mother was lying. He could see worrying tears streak down her cheek. His father stood silently in the background watching the whole thing unfold. 

“He’s dead, Jaemin,” She says again, “And he took a part of you with him 10 years ago.”

Jaemin felt hit with a sudden wave of nausea, and he can barely hear his own voice as he asks. He goes still, “ _What_?” 

10 years ago. 10 years ago. There was only one event that Jaemin knew happened 10 years ago. And that wasn’t how it went. That was _not_ how it went. Or was it? Jaemin confused himself. His parents had completely hidden all of the events that surrounded _his_ incident from him for years. And on top of that, he had suppressed the memories so deep that he couldn’t grab them if he tried. All of the facts that he knew were from his nightmares. The flashbacks. Thinking about them made his heart pound even faster, and he stepped forward suddenly and takes his mom by the shoulder, not hurting her but making it clear that he needed answers. 

He remembers the night he left Renjun. The ominous way Renjun had told him _are you sure_ when Jaemin insisted to him that he had drowned all those years ago, and should not have been able to swim. It was as if the boy knew something. He was shaking. 

“What happened to me?” Jaemin asks, voice breaking as he did so, “What happened to me that day?”

His mother was crying, sounds of pain coming from her lips. 

But Jaemin shouts. He had a right to know now. He had never been ready before, but this time, it was different. This time, he needed to know, “Tell me what happened,” He yells. 

“Jaemi-”

“What happened to me that day?” His eyes desperately pleads as he shouts, “The day I drowned.”

And with a shaking voice, his mother responds to him with something that he feared but something that made everything go numb, “It wasn’t you who drowned, Jaemin.” She repeats, voice cracking, “It was never you who drowned at that place. At that stream.”

The stream. The fucking stream. The thought of it made his heart beat faster than it ever had. Throughout all these months, he had been getting better about his fear of water. He had gone in all types of water. But that stream, no matter what he did, something about it always felt uncomfortable to him. Jaemin shakes his head. No. No. It’s not possible. Not that stream. Not that fucking stream. He doesn’t believe it.

Jaemin lets go of her. He is in shock. He doesn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe it. But as she speaks, the feeling in his body almost forces him to. His fingertips were numbing over. He knew it was coming. For the first time in a while, it was coming again, and this time, Jaemin knew that it was going to be the worst one to date. 

“Jaemin,” His mother then tells of the event for the first time since it happened, “Renjun was your childhood friend.”

Childhood friend. Jaemin closes his eyes, as the numbness climbs into his hands. _Childhood friend_. When he pulled up on Renjun’s street in front of his house that first night, a sense of strange familiarity washed over him. Was this the reason why? When he first saw Renjun that night through the forest treeline, the way those eyes allured him as if he had known them his whole life. Was this the reason why? When he had opened the door and Renjun’s mother greeted him as if she had known him a long time ago. Was this the reason why? The reason why Renjun looked so incredibly sad the first time they had met. Was this why? That night when they went to Jaemin’s house for the first time to grab the Mustang, and Renjun runs up to his driveway first even though Jaemin never told him which house he lived in. Was this why? No. No, it couldn’t have been. He shakes his head. It’s not possible. It wasn’t fucking possible. 

Jaemin’s numbness climb into his arms, and he couldn’t feel anything. His heart beat faster and faster. He feels it coming, and this time, Renjun was not here to help him. And according to his mother, apparently, he never was. 

His mother continued, “That day,” She hesitated so much, voice so unsure, “The two of you had been playing.”

His chest was feeling tighter and tighter. More constricted and it was getting hard to breath. His vision felt like it was going everywhere, but his ears were attuned to _every_ single word his mother said. 

And when the flashbacks came, they were no longer flashbacks. It had been so long since he had suffered from the flashbacks, but now, they came as a reel. It was like the floodgates open, and he shakes his head. No, it wasn’t true. It wasn’t true, he told himself. But the flood of memeories, opened by his mother’s reveal, told him other wise. He sees it all now, and he wishes he didn’t. The flashbacks that always confused him because it felt so wrong. The picture so incomplete. But now he sees it. And he wishes he didn’t. 

He sees footsteps. Running through a yellow plain. Not just his. Another. A head of black hair. All this time, in his flashbacks. He had seen a head of black hair, but it only hits him now that it was never his own. How could it have been? He couldn’t see the back of his own head. He knew this head now by its signature white-haire, but there was once a time where it was black. It played like a slow motion movie in his head, like those nostalgic childhood films with the yellow filter when it becomes sunset. Laughter. Of children. Of sweet childhood innocence. Jaemin was panicking. His upper arms felt numb and his lungs made it hard to breath. He shakes his head. This wasn’t possible. This was not fucking possible. He says this, but as the memories flood in as he panics, his mind says otherwise.

“You two usually went to the lake, or the pastures,” She said. Jaemin could barely look at her, “But that day, you two decided to go to the stream.”

Jaemin remembers it now. He is barely able to breathe through his constricted lungs, but he can still see all of it in his head. The path towards the stream that was so familiar to him now because all he did was go there at night. He remembers it and it comes in like a truck. It was like he was peeling pieces and pieces of the wood planks covering up the window to his life with every word. Except that he was getting splinters. Deep splinters. Jaemin sunk down to the ground and he holds his chest while unable to feel his fingers. The air in his lungs felt squeezed out of his body and he wanted to release the sounds of his pain. But he listens. 

“Renjun…” His mother said with a pained voice, “He couldn’t swim. It had rained the previous night. He slipped in too deep, and the current and tide were higher that day,” She had tears running down her cheek as she recites the incident to her son, “His back hit a rock.”

Jaemin sees it in his head, and he feels the panic sink deeper into his gut. But he lets himself experience it this time. He just holds himself there on the ground and lets him experience this for the last time. He sees the two of them walking by the bank. It had been raining the days before, leaving the sides muddy and slippery. So this was what his flashbacks had depicted. Renjun had fallen in, and the boy never learned to swim. The tide caught him, and suddenly Jaemin knew what those flashbacks of the rocks followed by red was. It had been his friend’s back slammed against the rock. 

Jaemin thinks of the scar on Renjun’s back. It made sense. It fucking clicked. The scar that ran down his back. Jaemin’s accident, and Renjun’s accident had been the same all along, just on two different perspectives. That was why he had flashes of rocks. And then of red. He shakes thinking of it now and he didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t. 

“You knew how to swim, Jaemin,” She cries, “You tried to save him. But you couldn’t.”

Jaemin stays on the floor, unable to move and barely able to breath. Maybe he was crying out into the room, but he doesn’t know because he can’t feel. From the tip of his fingers to his neck, he couldn’t feel anything. There was a reason why he was able to swim all this time. He _always_ knew how to. 

And Jaemin wanted to laugh in pain at the irony. Renjun had not been lying after all. He had not been lying when saying the first night they met that he wasn’t able to swim. It was because he _wasn’t_. Jaemin thinks back to a conversation he, Mark, and Jeno had at lunch once. It was the day that Mr. Han had given Mark detention for both talking about chewing gum to making a horrible grade on a test. Jaemin remembers the conversation they had afterwards. 

_Mark had went quiet, but then sat back frustratedly and ran his hands through his hair, gripping onto the locks, “Okay true, but still, the grade...when my parents see the grade...”_

_“Just throw it away,” Jaemin advised._

_Mark shook his head, “I can’t. It’s also on the online portal. So they’re going to kill me.”_

_“The scary thing is,” Jeno piped up after swallowing a bite of his japchae, “you could be serious, and we honestly wouldn’t know,” He laughs, “Because I can totally see them tossing your body in the Yunsa river. Your parents are kind of scary, Mark.”_

_Mark rolled his eyes, “My dad’s a coroner. If he’s going to kill me, he knows better than to throw me into a river, idiot. Dead bodies float.”_

The conversation didn’t matter. One line did. Most importantly, one line _One_ line.

It had been so subtle and he didn’t care about it at the time, but he remembers being told in that conversation,

_Dead people float_. 

There was a reason why Renjun couldn’t swim, but he could float. There was a fucking reason. No, this couldn’t be real. This was ridiculous, Jaemin thought. This was impossible. He couldn’t have been. Jaemin _felt_ him, with his own hands. The feeling of skin beneath his hands, in his arms. There was no way he could have made that up. His chest was compressed and he stared at the floor, both palms on the ground to stabilize himself as he clenched his body from the panic that washed over.

In his flashbacks, the screaming. It had always sounded off to him. Like it wasn’t his voice, or at least _just_ his voice. And he remembers, as the flashbacks had gotten clearer over time, the more it sounded like the combination of multiple voices, multiple screams. All this time, he had thought it was just his mind morphing the events in his head, but it hadn’t been. It had been _their_ voice. Both of them. Renjun. Jaemin. 

There was a _reason_ why Renjun was able to calm him down so quickly during a panic attack when no one else could. There was a _reason_ why Renjun’s voice had a pulling effect on him and dragged him out of his deepest nightmares. It was him who caused it in the first place. 

“Jaemin,” His mother cries. The man in question could barely lift his head to look his mother in the eye, “You were only 8 years old. You couldn’t handle it.” 

8 years old. He was 18 now. When he first met Renjun, it had been 9 years since the incident. But months had passed since then, and now, the time had turned into 10 years. _10_ whole years, he had lived without knowing what had happened to him. Partly because of choice, and partly because no one around him dared mention it. _10_ whole years, he had suppressed the memory so much that everyone, including himself, assumed that it was _him_ who had drowned. That it was _him_ who developed a fear of water because of his experience with drowning, when all this time, he was terrified because of what he witnessed. Jaemin felt his entire chest ache, and although it was all making sense, it also all did _not_ make sense. He could not believe this. It wasn’t real. 

Renjun was waiting for him at the streamside _at this second_ , he was sure. The white-haired boy had too specific features that Jaemin could not have made this up. He barely remembered Renjun’s childhood face, other than his eyes that allured him the first night they met, but there was no way he could have made up how the boy would grow up. There was no way he could make up how it felt to hold the boy in his arms, to feel his skin, to hear that _voice_. The voice that had matured. There was no way he could have made that up. 

Jaemin shakes his head, voice could barely speak, “He’s not dead.”

He’s not. He couldn’t be. 

His father had been silent the whole time, watching his son break down on the floor. It wasn’t that he would not help. It was that he felt as if Jaemin needed this. Needed this realization. Finally, Jaemin feels a presence in front of him and it slides a newspaper clipping in front of where he was sitting. It was one of the last ones. He had remembered his parents telling him that they had all publications of the event taken down and stripped off of the news so that it wouldn’t ever remind him, but here it was. One that they kept. 

Jaemin still felt his chest feel tight, and his arms going numb. His face hurt from the way he clenching it, but the sense of realization he had come to was taking effect on his soul. He didn’t know if he was to feel better or to feel worse. Better that he knew now. That he didn’t need to be confused all the time wondering what the flashbacks meant and being torn apart piece by piece by them. But now, it left a larger question. Who _was_ Renjun. _What_ was Renjun. 

Jaemin’s eyes scour it. With shaking hands, he reads the clipping. 

The year read 2006.

_October 27, 2006 -- Yeosan, Jeollanam Province_

_A tragic accident occurred Tuesday morning of last week. The names of the victim and the victim’s family are hidden by request, as well as those of the additional family whose child was associated with the victim. At around 7 P.M., a child was found on the bank of the Dunja Stream. An autopsy reported the cause of death to be drowning as well as physical trauma to the back area from impact with rock. 8 years old, the child was esteemed by those who knew him, and a small private memorial will be held in the upcoming week._

_Another child was at the scene, looked to be a friend who had came in to help unsuccessfully. When asked, the child had no other response other than shaking and emotional denial. The state-assigned psychiatrist estimates that an incident like this witnessed by someone so young may well leave a deep mental impact, citing such as possible Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, Anxiety, and possible development of phobias. The parents of the surviving child has yet to reach out for a comment on the child’s current state of mi-_

Jaemin stops reading. He knew what he needed to know. He believed them. He hated that he believed him, but how could he not? The flashbacks that had been ridden in his mind all pointed to this very story. All of the signs proved it right. No matter what he could say to justify that this was false, he knew it wasn’t. 

Jaemin had stopped shaking now. His arms were beginning to regain feeling, as the panic attack subsides. He does not wish this on his worst enemy. It wasn’t quirky. It wasn’t something that made him unique. It was a _real_ condition, and he had just felt the worst of it that he had _ever_ experienced. However, Jaemin has a feeling: this was the last of it. Because now, he knew. He fucking knew, and he almost wished he didn’t because the questions that it left him with hurt more than anything. 

Who the hell was Renjun. If this was true, and that the boy that he had grown to know, that he had grown to _love_ , was no longer alive, then what had been going on the past few months? 

Jaemin doesn’t know how long he had sat there. It must have been hours. His parents stay with him the entire time. 

They talk to him, trying to get him to say something back, but Jaemin just sits there blankly near the kitchen floor. They were still heavily concerned with the situation regarding Jaemin going out with someone he believes to be Renjun, but they would save that for another day. Tonight, it was obvious that Jaemin was on his final edge. He doesn’t touch the glass of water that his parents had set aside for him to drink. He doesn’t look at them when they try to comfort him. He just sits there, blankly.

Had he really been alone all this time? Had he got to a low point mentally where he had made up the entire thing? Had he really harbored so many suppressed memories from the trauma of his childhood friend’s death that Renjun had manifested himself in his imagination? The thought terrified him. There was no way. A psychologist would tell him that Huang Renjun was a vessel in his head for him to get over the past, as a neurological support mechanism. They would tell him that Renjun was actually the part of his mind that wanted him to grow up and heal himself, so it manifested into a hallucination. 

No, Jaemin did not believe that. He wasn’t going to believe that. 

He was not going to believe that the entire time, every memory they had together, all of the nights spent in lakes and creeks, spent cruising around in his car laughing, spent sitting on a moonlit pasture, he was not going to believe that the entire time, he had been alone. Doing it all by himself. Was that what people saw? He thinks back to all of the times they had been seen in public, and he always received strange looks. He thinks of the time the officer pulled up to the basketball court when they were playing and seemed to get both confused and scared when Jaemin had said “we”. He thinks of the movie theatre, and how the ticket woman thought someone else was going to show up later when Jaemin bought two movie tickets even though Renjun was right by his side when he had walked in. He thinks of the convenience store, and how the cashier looked more concerned than irritated at how noisy they, _he,_ was being. Did he look insane to them? Was he doing it all by himself this entire time? Jaemin’s mind flooded with fear. How terrifying was it to imagine that he was walking through those forests by himself all of these nights. Going into ponds and lakes. He couldn’t believe it.

He could not allow himself to believe that no one was ever actually there. 

He couldn’t believe it. So he didn’t.

Jaemin looks up and he thinks. There was no fucking way that he had made up Renjun. Everything was too specific. Everything was too detailed, from the scar on his back to the feeling of his lips when Jaemin kissed him that night. Someone could say that he only knew of the scar because it had manifested in his subconscious from when he saw Renjun’s impact as a child. But he knew it couldn’t have been the case. 

He felt it. He felt the ridges of the back. The soft skin. The feeling of Renjun’s lips. He _knew_ that was real. He fucking knew it was because he could still taste it when he got home that night. 

It wasn’t just that, but Renjun’s behavior. There was no way that his subconscious could make up that behavior. It was too specific. Too real. The way Renjun would never meet him during the day. Only at night. How could he had made up that trait? It would have not made any sense. That was something that Renjun himself dictated. He remembers when he first asked Renjun where he lived. 

_“Don’t go visiting me, though, I won’t come out,” Renjun comments in a sing-song voice._

_Jaemin laughs, “Why not?”_

_Renjun looks over to him and smiles slightly, “I don’t know, I kind of like having nighttime be our thing.”_

Don’t come visiting. He won’t come out. It had been obvious in everything that the boy said, and Jaemin was only connecting the dots now. He won’t come out. All the hints have been there the entire time. My god, Jaemin held his head in his hands. The way that Renjun panicked when he said that he had came to his house and met his mother. He remembers how Renjun had told him _legally_ , he lives somewhere else, but he spends most of his time with his parents. The gears are turning in his head. 

He looked up to his mother, who was sitting a distance away. His voice comes out desperate, “Mom, where is he buried?”

His mother pursed her lips and looks down, “In that cemetery on the corner of 2nd street and the gas station.”

 _On the corner of 2nd street and the gas station_ . It was the location that Renjun had told him was his legal residence. His _legal_ residence. His fucking final resting place. He remembers Renjun’s mother had given him the address, telling him it was on the third row. She must have thought that the flowers were for Renjun’s memorial. 

He looks up and asks his mother another question, “Have you ever told me that before? Have I ever been before?”

She thinks about it, and shakes her head no, “No. You’ve never been. I’ve been on your behalf, but we had never spoken of it.”

So he has never been. He has never been told where it was. So how would he have known? How would he have known that information, unless Renjun _was_ in fact real. He knew it was impossible. He knew he was pulling strings, but in his gut, he was onto the facts. 

And the fact is that Renjun couldn’t have been dead. Or at least, not fully. He was not a paranormal believer, but he would rather believe in spirits than believe that he was fucked up enough to imagine a whole friendship with someone. He could not have known where Renjun was buried himself. 

In fact, there were so many things that he could never had known before. A datura. He didn’t know what a goddamn datura was. Or any of the flowers and gardening knowledge that Renjun had. And Jaemin hesitated. The goddamn Datura. It clicks. The day in class. He finds out a Datura can kill upon touch. He shakes his head.

There was a reason why Renjun could hold a Datura. He was already…No, Jaemin hated that word. There was a reason why Renjun had prevented Jaemin from touching a Datura that one time. It would have killed him. His subconscious could not have made that up. It couldn’t. It fucking couldn’t. Renjun had to be real. 

How could he have made up the smallest details of Renjun’s day when they would have conversations. He had always wondered why Renjun days consisted mostly of observations. He watches his mother garden. He observes this and he observes that, but never directly interacts. Jaemin laughs dryly at it now. He remembers when Renjun had told him a dog began barking at him for no reason. He didn’t think twice about it at the time, but now, it jabbed him like a thousands knives. 

He remembers when Renjun confessed to him that he doesn’t have friends. That in school, no body sees him. The white-haired boy had _literally_ told him that in school, no body saw him, and he had been taking it figurtively the entire time. It never made sense how Renjun, being the energetic and charismatic person he was, had no friends in school. It didn’t make sense how he was loner. Jaemin laughs in a panic. It did now. It all made sense now. 

It fucking killed Jaemin now to know that the boy had been literal and not figurtive. They _couldn’t_ see him. He then remembers when Renjun talked about his grandmother being fatally ill and was going to pass away soon. Jaemin had asked him why he has not visited her, to which the boy had told him that in a couple weeks, she’d be able to visit him. Of course she would, Jaemin thinks bitterly looking back on it now, if she was fatally ill and on her death bed, then of course she would soon be able to see him. Because she’d be dead too. The thought made his heart clench. 

But these details. They were too specific. They were way too raw to be made up. He thinks to how Renjun steered away from being too personal in the beginning, only talking about broad things. Was it to not make it obvious? Jaemin clenches his teeth as he goes on a montage in his head of _everything_ that now made sense. 

Why would his imagination behave in _any_ way that Renjun did. The secrets. The fucking secrets that he kept. Why would his imagination keep secrets?

Renjun would not let them touch each other, even by a hair, in the beginning. Always looking as if he was terrified or nervous to be touched. And then, when they finally did, Jaemin remembers how shocked Renjun looked. As if he had been surprised that he _could_ touch Jaemin. As if he had never been touched before, at least in a long time, and didn’t know he even could be. 

He remembered how Renjun never felt the cold, never heard the sounds in the forest until it was too near, never smelled the most obvious things. And then Jaemin remembers the night that Renjun first touched him, hand on his wrist. And the first thing Renjun says after coming out of shock, was that it was cold. As if he could feel it for the first time. And he noticed the cologne Jaemin was wearing. As if he could smell it for the first time, even though Jaemin wore it every day. He remembers how Renjun’s skin turns warm upon touch, but was always as cold as winter to begin with. He remembers the orange, the way Renjun asked him what it tasted like. And then, there in Jaemin’s arms, Renjun gets to. Renjun inhales and exhales more when they were touching, as if he gave him life. 

As _if he gave him life_. 

Jaemin laughs ironically at this, and his mother and father looked terrified but he didn’t care. 

It was bitter on his mouth, as he thinks about a line that Renjun had given him several times before. 

“ _You make me feel alive.”_ Oh how it hurt to know that Renjun had been literal. This entire time, Jaemin thought that he had said that because of their exhilarating nightly adventures and their friendship, but now he knew. 

There was also something more ironic about the little phrase they used to describe themselves near the beginning. It took on a new meaning now. 

Jaemin remembers how they had said that they could be “lonely together.” He runs his hands through his hair now as he thinks about it. That had been literal too. They were fucking lonely together, because one of them wasn’t even alive. Jaemin hits his head back against the wall he was leaning on and clenches his eyes. He had fallen in love with a...with a _thing_. He didn’t even know. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t fucking know anything it seemed. 

The fucking secrets that Renjun kept. The way he would look around as if the moon was watching his every movement when he would be on the verge of telling Jaemin something. How he tells Jaemin that he _physically_ could not tell Jaemin certain things. It was all making sense. And the waiting. 

Jaemin stopped. He stopped whatever he was doing, and he focuses just on that. The waiting. 

Huang Renjun had been waiting for someone this entire time. Waiting for someone because in Renjun’s words, he _couldn’t_ move on. Jaemin remembers Renjun telling him that after this person comes, then he would no longer be there anymore. And he thinks of the note left on his bed. 

_I’m ready to tell you, but after that, I’m leaving for good._

_Meet me tonight at our usual._

_And remember, Jaemin, you make me feel alive again._

Leaving for good. Renjun had been waiting on someone. What had he fucking been waiting on. Jaemin had this feeling in his gut that he knew. That he knew the reason why Renjun was here. Why Renjun from the very beginning was adamant that Jaemin get over his fear of water. He remembers at the fountain that one night, Renjun had solemnly told him _soon, you won’t need me anymore_. It almost felt like Renjun was here for a purpose, but he had derived and steered away from that purpose with every night they spent together and the closer their friendship got. Jaemin had a feeling. He had a feeling he knew who Renjun was waiting for. 

No. That was not the right wording. Renjun wasn’t waiting _for_ someone. Renjun had been waiting _on_ someone. Waiting on someone to arrive before he could move on. Because he had caused it in the first place and he was here to fix it. He had been waiting _on_ someone, not _for_ someone. Waiting on someone to get better. Waiting for them to realize. 

Jaemin suddenly gets up. His parents looked over at the sudden movement, but Jaemin was not going to be confined to this house tonight. Not tonight. He looks over at the clock on the wall. It was 4 in the morning. He needed to go. He needed to fucking go. Looking towards his parents, he makes a silent apology, “I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll be home by morning.”

Before they could run over and stop him, Jaemin unlocked the back door and sprinted. He jumped over his gate rather than opening it to save time, and began running. His footsteps sounded through the quiet suburb streets. Four in the morning, and not a single soul. His sneakers hit the asphalt as he ran, and his heart was pounding. Renjun was real. Renjun had to be real. 

He had to be fucking real, because Jaemin might have had issues, but he was not stupid. He knew what it felt like to love a person. He knew what it felt like to hold someone in his arms. To talk late into the night about things nobody else could know. He ran. He ran until he leaves the suburbs and goes into the plains. 

He was confused. He was hurt. He was angry. Fuck, he was angry. But more than anything, he was desperate. He ran against the treeline, heart pounding in his chest. He keeps on running, legs not feeling a thing. Until he reaches the thin woods that led to the stream. From the other side, he stares into it. 

He sees no one. No head of white hair. He sees no one. His heart began beating fast, and he is desperately trying to hold onto his truth. His truth that Renjun was _not_ a part of his head. But as he peers in and sees no one, it was like his mind was messing with itself. Was this indicative? No, it couldn’t have been. 

Jaemin runs across the oak. The sounds of the forest: all of the creaking, the hoots of animals, the wind. It all felt more terrifying now. It all felt like a horror film. Because he still did not know what Renjun was. Was he a guardian angel? Was he a spirit? A ghost? All he knew was that he was currently in these woods alone. He breaks through to the other side and comes face to face with the stream. 

The stream. There had been a reason why this one particular stream had always given him more anxiety than the rest. That no matter how much better he got, this one always made him feel a little more upset. The stream was not too dangerous today. The tide was not as high and the current not as fast. 

He stands there and looks around frantically. Nothing. Just nothing. No white hair. No nothing. Renjun. Renjun. The name repeated in his head as he panicked. Where was Renjun. The boy was real. He knew he was real. 

Jaemin paces there for a moment and then yells out, “Come out.”

He was angry. He was angry because he feels gaslighted. He feels lied to. He feels utterly insane, and he needed to know he wasn’t. 

“Come out, you fucking liar,” Jaemin yells into the forest, across the stream. 

It echoed. 

And Jaemin clenches his fists, “I know you’re there. Come out, you _bitch_.” 

And Jaemin walks around there for a moment. He walks around, chest heaving, eyes seeing red. And he searches. He searches and searches, but nothing. He shakes his head, to remind him that he needed to hold on to his belief. His belief that Renjun was real. That he was no seeing things. That he wasn’t in these woods alone. Renjun was real, he told himself. The boy was real, in some form or another. He had to have been. He _had_ to have been. 

He stares at the stream. It made his hands clammy. And he no longer has to suffer from flashbacks, because he knew what happened. He knew what had fucking happened. When he looks at it, he can almost see it again. The fast current. The high tide. The slip and then the crash. He stands here now, 10 years later, and he still feels the sense of fear. How had he looked upon this stream all this time, and never knew.

He had gotten into every other body of water in the area. The lakes. The ponds. The pools. He could go in hot tubs. He could skinny dip in hotel pools. He could tread water in lakes. He could slide down rock slides. And wade in shallow creeks. He could do all of it now. 

But he had not done this. He stared at the stream. The place it all started. It had been right under his nose from the beginning.

Renjun sat at this place for a reason every night. Waiting on someone. Jaemin stares at the stream. This place was not just a reminder of the place Renjun had died. It was a testament to Jaemin’s fear. It was the place it all started. And Jaemin steps forward. 

This will be the place it ends. This was his final test. He had done everything. He had gotten over so much, but this. This stream. Going underwater. Inside of this stream. This was his final test. His heart beats, and he looks around. No Renjun. He stares at the stream again. He hated it. He hated it with every ounce of his being, but what he hated more was this sense of fear in his mind. Fear that Renjun wasn’t real. He had to see him. 

Renjun sat here waiting every night, right? Waiting on someone. Waiting on someone to fully, completely heal from the damage Renjun had caused by his death, even if it wasnt his fault directly. And this was how Jaemin was going to do it. By going straight into the place it started in the first place. 

He doesn’t even bother taking his shirt off. Stepping out of his shoes, Jaemin clenches his jaw and his fists at the stream. The fucking stream. He hated it. He hated it with every fiber of his being. It took everything from him. It first took his friend, and then ten years of his life. Ten years of his life wasted terrified. Terrified of water. Terrified of himself. Terrified of everyone around him. It took ten years of his life, and Jaemin would not let it take any more. 

He runs forward and he jumps in. 

Unlike other times, unlike every other time where he had gone into water, Jaemin does not just ease himself in feet first, then legs, then waist, then shoulders. To avoid submerging his head. He does not do that. This time, Na Jaemin jumps in. 

He jumps in and immediately, he is submerged underwater. It was cold. It was _very_ cold. And the roaring of the current is all he hears. Although it was not as heavy as it usually was after it rained, the current of the stream was still loud. He was underwater, with his head submerged for the first time. And he closes his eyes as he sinks towards the bottom. He knew he would go up in moments, but when he reaches the rocky bottom, he holds onto a rock. And he closes his eyes. He needed this. 

He fucking needed this, because he was sick of being afraid. And this was ultimate test. The water felt cold on his skin, and the current wanted to move him away but he held in place. He held his breath and closed his eyes. His heart was beating fast, but he told it to calm itself. He told it that it was letting everything else dictate rather than controlling it. Months and months of slowly getting better led him to this point. And he was going to face it triumphantly. He was going to get rid of this fear once and for all if it was the last thing he did. 

In the stream, Jaemin knows who he wants to see when he gets up. He knows who he wants to see when he opens his eyes. 

But he hears the voice first. Muffled, above the water. He hears it first, calling his name. 

_Jaemin_ , _Na Jaemin_ , it yelled in a panic. He could hear it muffled through the water, but he knows the voice instantly. He opens his eyes and look up. Through the surface, he sees a concerned boy looking down on him, about to climb into the water. A boy with familiar white hair and soft eyes and lips he knew he had felt before. Renjun looked frantic and was about to come in, but then, Jaemin lets go of the rock he was holding and pushes himself to the surface. 

He breaks the water with a loud gasp and he swims forward, cutting across the current. 

Renjun is on his hands and knees on the shore, eyes concerned as he reaches a hand out to Jaemin. 

But when Jaemin reaches the shore, he doesn’t take Renjun’s hand. 

He doesn’t take Renjun’s hand at all.

Instead, he pulls himself up and grabs the smaller by his collar before pushing the two of them backwards until Renjun’s back was against the trunk of a tree. Renjun looked obviously surprised by the action, and it didn’t hurt, but it was a kind of aggressiveness that Jaemin knew Renjun had never felt from him before. Renjun stared at him with wide eyes, and opened his mouth to speak.

“Jaemin, wh-” He begins.

Jaemin looks into those wide eyes, lips parted, staring back at him, and he was too upset to care. The boy had been pulling his strings this entire time. 

With his hands still on the collar of Renjun’s shirt, Jaemin raises his voice in both an angry and desperate tone, “Who the _fuck_ are you?”

Renjun parts his lips and lets out a “Jaemin, what are you t-”

“Who the fuck are you, Renjun,” Jaemin’s face looked pain, dripping with water from the stream. He had done it. He had faced it fear, and now, he faces another one. Renjun himself. His voice sounded pained too. 

Renjun tries to push his hands off, “Jaemin, what is going on.”

“Whoare you?” He asks, shaking his head as if disbelieving. 

But Jaemin asks again, a different question this time, “ _What_ are you.” 

And with that question, Renjun knew. Jaemin knew that Renjun knew, by the sudden sinking of his face. And the tension in his shoulders all of a sudden. That was all Jaemin had to say to make Renjun know that _he_ knows. _What_ are you. 

The boy says nothing. Jaemin just stares at him, eyes searching for an answer in the creature that could be soulless for all he knew. 

And Jaemin lets go of his collar while stepping back and rubbing his face out of frustration. Jaemin clenches his teeth and let out a distressed _goddamnit_. 

But Renjun says nothing. The boy is still against the tree, eyes both sad, apologetic, fearful, and a mix of so many other things. He watches as Jaemin looks at him with the eyes of someone who fears deeply. Jaemin had just proved that he had ultimately gotten over one fear, just to cultivate another. _Him_. 

A silence settles, and Jaemin could feel himself becoming more and more lost in his sea of confusion and misery by the moment. Renjun wasn’t saying anything, and Jaemin couldn’t blame him. Where could he ever start. What could possibly explain what was going on. 

It was quiet tonight. And the eerie woods waited for either of them to speak. The wind knew. The wind knew this day would come, and gone up to the heavens to report back. Report of a spirit who had lost the way of his duty. 

They were quiet. And a truth settled in. So there _was_ something wrong. And this silence, a silence full of admittance, reveals it. 

Finally, Jaemin turns and looks at the smaller, whose face was solemn, and asks him, “How long have you been waiting?”

Renjun looks up at him. His eyes were glassy, Jaemin could tell. 

Jaemin asks once more, voice dejected, “How long have you been waiting for the person?”

Jaemin knows the number. He knows. But he waits for Renjun to tell him anyways. To confirm to him. And finally, the boy does. 

In a small voice, broken yet still beautiful, Renjun tells him, “Ten years, two months, and four days.”

Ten years. Two months. Four days. Funny how it was exactly how long since the accident. Jaemin knew this by now, but hearing did not make it hurt less. 

Jaemin nods sarcastically and has a bitter look on his face, “Funny. Do you believe in coincidences?” He steps one foot closer, staring Renjun dead in the eye, “Or is there a reason why that was the exact date I lost a part of myself?” _Lost a part of my soul._

Renjun doesn’t say anything, just looks at him with a painful expression.

Jaemin feels that soul taken away but he laughs dryly, “Well he’s here. The person you’re waiting for is here now.” He gestures to himself, “I’m better. I jumped into that stream. I’m better."

He still doesnt say anything.

"And now, you’re going to leave, right? You’re going to ‘ _move on’?_ “ Jaemin nods bitterly, “Good. I don’t ever want to see the face of a liar again.”

“Jaemin, I-” Renjun began, his voice utterly broken. 

“Don’t fucking _Jaemin_ me,” The man in questions says, so frustrated and confused that he could barely think. Renjun winced at the tone, and looked down at his feet. 

And then Jaemin continued, “Was it all lies? Was everything a lie?” He then gestures between the two of them, “Is this a lie, too?”

“I don’t even know if you’re real,” He gestured widely and his face looked clearly distraught, voice frantic, “I could be talking to myself for all I know. I don’t even know if you’re real.”

“I am real,” Renjun steps forward, but Jaemin steps back, “Everything was real. Jaemin, pleas-”

But the man shakes his head, “You’re dead. Renjun, you’re _dead,_ ” He could barely spit the words out, “I remember everything now.”

Renjun winces at the word. 

Jaemin shook his head and continued, “ How am I seeing you? How are you real? What the fuck even _are_ you?”

Jaemin was not listening to anything the smaller was saying, caught up in his own panic and frustration.

Renjun tries to step forward in a plea, but Jaemin was not having any of it, “Jaemin, please, listen,” He begs, “I’m real. You can touch me. See?” And Renjun reaches out, but Jaemin swipes his hand away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Jaemin seethed.Renjun looks visibly hurt by the cold actions, but he steps back and looked at Jaemin, whose body was so rigid that it felt uncomfortable for them to be like this.

“What are you?” Jaemin asks him again.

And Renjun tells him meekly, “I’m Renjun. The one that you know.”

Jaemin shakes his head slowly, “I don’t know you. I don’t even know what you are.”

At that, Jaemin sees Renjun cry. It was a sad sight, to see an angel with tears streaking down its face, but Jaemin could not bring himself to come forth. Not when he was still broken himself. Renjun does not sob, but it comes out slowly as tears brim his ducts and spilled gently on the side of his face as he tries to make Jaemin understand. 

“You _do_ know me,” Renjun pleads, “Everything we did, all the conversations we had, it was real. Jaemin, it was real.”

Jaemin wanted to wipe away those tears, but he stays put in his spot, trying not to let the tears distract him and he asks in a broken voice, “Renjun, I’m going to ask you again. What are you. And what are you doing in my life?”

Renjun looks down at his feet, and the wind slows down so that the world could listen. The smaller then looks up at the moon as if asking for permission, and the light bounces off of his tear streaked face and his face looks begging. As if begging the heavens to speak. He stares at it for a while before looking over at Jaemin. Jaemin, whose pained expression, crushed the souls of a thousand men. Whose heart weighted heavily in his hands. 

“Jaemin, I -” He begins.

“If you say that you can’t tell me, then I’m going to leave Renjun.” Jaemin says, “Don’t you dare fucking tell me you ca-”

“I couldn’t move on, Jaemin,” Renjun speaks painfully, interrupting him.

Jaemin stops. 

“I couldn’t move on and was stuck here waiting years, in this spot,” Renjun speaks, “For a boy whose appearance I didn’t even know anymore. Whose personality I didn’t even know. All I knew was that I was supposed to wait here.”

Jaemin tongues his cheek, “Why?’

“You were my unfinished business.” Renjun speaks.

Jaemin clenches his teeth, “Unfinished business? What is this? A fucking movi-”

“Listen!” Renjun pleaded and he blinks back the liquid moonlight coming from his eyes, “My death left an impact on you. I ruined the life of another, and I was sent down here to wait in this spot every night. I was sent here to help you get better since I played a part in why you are how you are.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Renjun was not finished, but Jaemin had to beg the question, voice hurt, “Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

“I couldn’t,” Renjun shook his head, voice pleading, “Jaemin, I can’t. I’m not allowed to, not until you heal.” 

How had it come to this. How had it fucking come to this.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Jaemin says, voice scattered across the wind. 

And Renjun shakes his head solemnly, “I’m not.”

Jaemin feels his throat dry, “And what happens then? What happens after this?”

Renjun looks down, physically pained just by his posture, “After this, I leave. I move on.”

Jaemin shakes his head at this, panicked, “So all this time, I was just a task?”

“No” Renjun shook his head adamantly, and he begged Jaemin to listen. 

“Renjun,” He tilted his head up and tried not to show just how pained he was, “I don’t know what I’m more upset at. The fact that you aren’t... _human_. Or the fact that nothing between us was genuin-”

“No,” Renjun stops him before he could finish the words, and his tears silently start up again, “Jaemin don’t say that. Don’t say it wasn’t genuine”

“How could I not?” Jaemin laughs dryly, no humor in his tone at all, “You helped me move on, so that in turn, you yourself can move on.”

But Renjun shakes his head desperately and tries to make his human friend understand, “Jaemin, No, don’t say that,” He cries, “That’s not true.”

“Don’t give me more lies, Renju-” Jaemin says bitterly.

“At first, it was true,” Renjun interrupts desperately and brokenly, “At first, that was all I planned to do.”

Jaemin looked at him. 

“When we met, it was my job. My job to help you. You were so broken, and so affected by what had happened to me all those years ago. I wanted to move on, so it was just me helping you.” He bit his tongue. 

“But then,” Renjun says, voice getting high pitched as he tries to calm himself down, “You were different.”

He continues, “You were different, Jaemin. We weren’t kids anymore, Jaemin. You were…” He tries to look for the right words, “You were funny. You were understanding. You were handsome and made me feel things. You were kind and made me feel things. Teasing. You treated me...like you cared,” He says with a pained face, “And you had your vulnerabilities but you opened up to me. You talked to me. You wanted to know about me and ask about my day, even if it wasn’t interesting,” Renjun’s lips trembled and he looked down, “You talked to me as if you really saw me. Not just physically, but mentally. You…” He caught his breath, “You could touch me. You came here every night to be with me. You made me feel things I’ve never felt before.” 

Jaemin swallowed and ran a hand through his own hair, “Renjun, you aren’t even al-”

“It wasn’t just that,” Renjun continued, clenching his eyes as if it would hold back the emotions, “I was 8 when it all happened. I never had the chance to do anything. I never had the chance to go on my first date. I never had the chance to do stupid things at night. Like sneaking out. Like skinny dipping. I never had the chance to have my first kiss. Or drive around with the windows down. You gave me that, Jaemin. You made me feel like I was normal. I’m not, but for a moment there, I thought I was. I thought I was here to help you, but I didn’t expect to be helped too,” Renjun confesses with his heart on his sleeve, “When I’m with you, I can feel again. Your skin. I can smell the air again. Your cologne. I can hear again. The wind. The trees. I can taste again. Jaemin, I can lov-”

“Don’t say it,” Jaemin asks with a broken voice. He knew what Renjun was going to say, “Don’t you fucking say it.”

“Jaemin, I can love again,” Renjun says anyways, eyes glassy, and he barely manages to spit out the next words without stuttering, “I love you.”

Jaemin shakes his head. And the negative response made Renjun more hurt than he could ever describe, and he takes a step towards Jaemin, repeating himself desparate to make Jaemin believe him, “I love you,” He said in a small, dejected voice, “Please, I love you, Jaemin. I love you.”

Jaemin shakes his head and stares at the smaller incredulously, “What do you know about love? You aren’t even alive.”

Renjun looks up at him with tears brimming in his eyes and he wished Jaemin hadn’t said that, “Jaemin, don’t say that.”

“You aren’t even alive, how the hell can you feel,” Jaemin stares in horror and sadness, “When I kissed you, I felt it everywhere in my body. Happiness. Ecstasy. Desire. Do you know how it makes me feel to know you couldn’t feel the same? When I hold your hand, I feel it everywhere. How much I want to be around you. How much I want to do this forever. Do you know how it makes me feel to know you could never had felt the same?”

Jaemin looked so pain, it hurt to even witness. And Renjun protests, “But I can. I ca-”

“When I talk to you late in the night, all I’m thinking about is how I want to stay here for eternity. How happy I am just laying there next to you. Do you have any idea what it feels liketo know that this entire time, eternity was never an option?”

Renjun gives him the most apologetic eyes and he opens his mouth to speak, but Jaemin beats him to it.

“If I cut you,” Jaemin reaches out to take a hold of Renjun’s wrists in and puts it in between them, “Would you feel pain?”

Jaemin continues, “If I set you ablaze, would you feel the heat? If I put ice on your hand, would you feel the cold? You wouldn’t.” He steps back and shakes his head, “You couldn’t.”

Renjun stays quiet. 

And then Jaemin asks, a confession masked in a painful question, “And if I told you that yes, I loved you too, how would I know you feel it back?”

 _And if I told you that yes, I loved you too, how would I know you feel it back_.

Renjun stares at him. He stares at him with wide, glassy eyes that revealed the whole world. Revealed the deepest truths that the universe could offer. 

Renjun just continues staring at him. Was that reciprocation? Was that Jaemin just said indicative of reciprocation? Renjun steps forward slowly, his white hair bouncing as he walks. Jaemin doesn’t move backwards this time, and stays still. He figures that what was the point in denying it. What was the goddamn point. Come morning, the white-haired creature was going to be gone. What was the goddamn point, he figures. And he admits the truth. A truth that he hated because it made no difference. His soul was split. One part in the human world, and one part in whatever world Renjun was about to dissapear off to. And he could not nothing about it but watch and get angry. 

He stays still and lets Renjun come up. Renjun looks up at him, eyes glassy. The boy then brings a slender hand up to gently rest on Jaemin’s face, and it sends shivers down the both of them. 

And then, Renjun reaches down to pull Jaemin’s hand up. He pulls Jaemin’s hand up until it rests on Renjun’s chest, where the heart was. Jaemin looks at him. He expected to feel nothing. An empty heart cavity. Not like the thumping flesh of life. 

Renjun doesn’t stare his eyes away from Jaemin’s as he lets the man’s hand rest on his chest. 

And that was when Jaemin feels it. A heartbeat. But it wasn’t a _typical_ heartbeat. Instead of a steady, constant thump. It was sporadic. Somewhere between fully alive and fully dead. It was somewhere in the middle. 

Jaemin looked down and back up at Renjun, confused and shocked. He opened his mouth to ask but Renjun beat him to it. 

The boy told him, something that he had told Jaemin before. A couple months ago, the first time Renjun explained to him what a Datura was, Jaemin had asked him. _What do you know about love?”_ Renjun had shrugged and answered something similar to what he was about to say. Something that now made sense, as Jaemin feels the undead sporadic heartbeat. 

Renjun tells him, “Love is the only medium that escapes death.” 

Jaemin just stares at him, palm on the boy’s chest. Not truly alive, but not truly dead. Living somewhere in between, boldened by Jaemin’s touch that ignited a flame to his body, gave him new breath, split his heart in two with one half voluntarily given over to Na Jaemin. They say that in death, a person brings nothing with them. Everything is left behind. All belongings. Clothes. Jewelry. Money. All pain. How happiness. How sorrow. And all worries. 

Nothing crosses over to the world of the dead. Nothing except for love. Love, which makes people feel _alive_ . Love, which made _Renjun_ feel alive. 

The spirit stands there now, stripped of all his secrets, and waits for a response from the person who holds his breath, his heart, his soul. Eyes searching, glassy and filled with both pain and adoration. 

And Jaemin asks him, “What is this?”

Renjun purses his lips and looks down at the ground. And when he looks up again, he answers, “You make me feel alive again, Jaemin.”

The boy in question just stares at the smaller.

And it was quiet for a while. Crickets chirp, but not as loudly. They wanted to hear how this story ends. Everything did.

And then Renjun speaks, “Listen, I know I haven’t told you anything. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I had to wait. Wait until you got better. And I know that hurt you,” He bites his lip, “But please understand that if I could, I would have.”

Jaemin just looks at him, listening. 

The smaller continues, “I don’t have much time left now, and I know you have questions. I know there’s a lot to think about. I know you’re questioning yourself, and questioning me, and questioning everything,” Renjun says, and his voice broke as he says his last words, “But please, Jaemin. This is my last night,” He has tears falling now, “I just want to be with you. This is my last night, and I love you. I want to feel human for one more night,” He cries gently, not looking at Jaemin, “I want to be with you.”

He asks more, “I know you’re upset, but please, get mad at me after. Yell at me after. But not now, please,” He almost begs, “Right now, I just want to be with you.”

And then he asks Jaemin, "I know I'm not...like you. But you can still love me, right?" Renjun asks, eyes glassed over, "You still love me, right?"

Jaemin closed his eyes and he took a deep breathe. It reminded him of what Renjun _couldn’t_ do, and that caused a deep pain in his chest.

And he tells the boy now, softer than before, "I do."

Renjun nods, closing his eyes, grateful, "Then please, get mad at me after. But just hold me this last night. Please, it's our last time."

Jaemin stared at him. He listens to the plea, and he wanted so bad to ignore it. To deny that he was taken by heart and soul by someone who didn’t even exist in his world. But Renjun’s words hit him, and he heard the urgency. He heard the urgency in his tone, and Jaemin felt himself deflating. He felt himself deflating and seeing Renjun as what he was right now. A boy. A boy who loved him and asked for one last thing, even if he didn’t fully deserve it. He was upset. He was so upset, and he knew he would be for a while. But still.

Slowly, Jaemin removes his hand from the boy’s chest and up to Renjun’s face, caressing his gentle cheek. It was soft under his touch, turning warm until it resembled human flesh, and as smooth as porcelain. Is this body real? Jaemin wondered. It looked real. It felt real. If he believed it was real, would it be? The night was quiet as it waited for his response. 

Jaemin asks softly, something settling between them, “So I won’t see you here tomorrow?”

Renjun closes his eyes and shook his head solemnly, “No.”

Not just tomorrow. But the day after that. And the day after that. And so forth. 

Jaemin looked up to the moon now. Was that where this angel came from, if that was what Renjun was? He looked up the moon, like Renjun would at times as if asking for permission to be with him, and he didn’t know who he was asking. But he was begging. He begged for morning. To see Renjun in the morning, at the least. The moon was bright today, shining so that it could illuminate on their tragedy. And Jaemin begged for a few minutes into the morning

Jaemin then looks back down at his friend, “Then I’ll stay with you until the morning.” 

Huang Renjun looked up at him. Eyes searching, and then finally, he gives him a smile through the pain and brings a hand up to hold Jaemin’s larger hands in place on his cheek and he nods, “Okay.”

So they sit down, against the tree near the stream where they usually did. Renjun leaned back against Jaemin’s chest, and savored the feeling of being alive. Of breathing the crisp night air. Of smelling the deep scent of cologne. Of being in love with someone he would be seeing for the last time in a long time. 

“Thank you,” Renjun says at one point, “For giving me the experiences I never got to have.”

Jaemin is quiet for a moment. And then he pulls the smaller tighter, “Renjun…”

It just felt too much like goodbyes. Not now. Not when they had at least two or three hours. 

And so Jaemin holds Renjun closely, next to the stream as they try to forget that morning will come. The fireflies chirp around them, and the forest makes sounds as if it was crying for the pairing that await for their goodbyes. There was something desperate that sparked within Jaemin from knowing that when sunlight hits the sky, he would lose Renjun forever.

_It’s not forever_ , Renjun tells him as they lay there near one another, _I’ll see you again_. 

Jaemin hates those promises, because he knows that for the rest of his life, no matter what happens, he’ll be waiting for the signs. He had gotten so far mentally. When this was all over, he was going to go back to school, and finish up his senior year. He will hang around and have fun with Jeno and Mark, make new friends. He might try going on dates with people, like teenagers usually do. And afterwards, he’ll be heading towards university to begin a life for himself. 

He knew this, but Jaemin still _also_ knew that he’d be waiting on that promise for a long time. Now, when he goes to streams, he would not feel the terror he did before. But instead, immense sadness. Looking towards tree trunks hoping that one day, he’ll see a head of white hair and beautiful eyes with a downward slant. 

Knowing this, he holds Renjun tighter, as if he couldn’t disappear if they were stuck like this. 

They whisper their _I love you’s_ , to engrain it in each other’s mind before it was too late. The last thing they wanted to leave off on was regret this night. Jaemin almost wished he hadn’t jumped in the stream. If he hadn’t, then maybe Renjun would be able to stay longer. Or maybe it wouldn’t even matter, because the fact that he _could_ do it was proof enough that he was healed. He tries not to waste anymore time on what they could have done differently, and focused on what they could do now. 

They could lay here now, against the trunk of the tree, watching as the sky lightened little by little. Jaemin buries his face in the boy’s white hair, taking in the scent of fresh linen for the last time. He clutches onto the shirt, praying that the cotton doesn’t crumble in his fingers as he lets go. He tries to blink as little as possible, for he wanted to see as much of Renjun’s face before morning came. The slender nose. Slim face with pretty pink lips and long lashes that flutter when he speaks. Renjun was mapping out his face too, Jaemin could tell. He could tell by the way his index finger traces his lips, his jaw, his eyebrows. 

This was the boy he had spent all of his nights with the past several months. A friendship that cultivated in the shadows away from the heavens, that would be judging them. Judging them for a love that stepped foot in both worlds. The living and the dead. They escaped into the night, masking their adventures under the ruse of helping one another. Jaemin, who now could look his fear in the eye and walk straight into it. Renjun, who had never had the opportunity to live a normal life, was given the experience of it all. They were not leaving off the same people they began, and that should be enough. But humans are selfish by nature, and Jaemin wanted more. Jaemin wanted Renjun to be there when the sun rises. 

Na Jaemin had always talked about wanting to see Renjun when the day comes, so that they would not have to hide in the night anymore, but as it approaches, with the sky getting lighter and lighter, his previous request took on a more bittersweet feeling. 

The current of the stream cries for them, and at some point, Renjun does too. It was getting lighter, and soon, the sun would break through the sky and reach them. If they could run forever following the shadow of the moon, they would have. Morning approaches, and both of them are starkly reminded of the minutes they had left. 

All of Renjun’s tears had dried, but once he saw that the sky was lightening, he begins to be frantic and brusts into them again. Renjun cries, and Jaemin sits up suddenly, cupping the boy’s face in his hands gently. 

“I don’t want to leave,” Renjun doesn’t look at him as he frantically pleads, “I don’t want to leave, Jaemin.”

It was like a second death for Renjun. A round two, except for some reason, this time it hurt a little more. Because this time, he was waiting for it to come.

“I’m sorry we fought,” Renjun suddenly said, upset over everything even though that conversation was long and gone. He sniffles and tries to make his waterworks stop. 

Jaemin shakes his head and tells Renjun gently, to calm the other, “No, I’m sorry. It’s going to be okay, Renjun.”

But the boy shakes his head, “It’s not. I’m not ready to leave.”

Jaemin could offer him nothing. Nothing but words to calm the frantic boy down, “It’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t want to leave,” He repeats, and he holds onto Jaemin’s hands desparately. 

“I know I know. I don’t want you to leave, either,” Jaemin whispers to him gently, trying to calm the boy down but knowing it was hypocritical since he wasn’t faring any better either, knowing that he’ll still be here in the morning alone. Knowing that soon, very soon, this will all go away. How to describe the feeling. It was hard. It was like sitting there, knowing something was going to end, and not knowing when, so they desperately grab onto the last moments. They knew these were their last moments, and Renjun panicked. 

“But I have to,” Renjun cries and shakes his head, “I have no choice.”

“I know,” Jaemin wipes at the tears on his friend’s cheek, “Let’s not think about the morning then.”

“But it’s coming, and I’ll be go-” 

“Gone, I know,” It hurt Jaemin immensely to say, but he tried to make these last moments okay, “But let’s not think about the morning. We only have a few minutes left. Let’s not waste our time.”

Renjun just shook his head, closing his eyes trying not to let the tears come out. 

Jaemin was frantic. He didn’t want to leave off like this. Not like this. He wanted to end this on a happy note. He didn’t want them to leave off like this, so he tried, “Hey, talk to me. Did these past months make you happy?”

Jaemin was trying so hard to distract the both of them, but it all felt frantic. The two of them knew that the sun was going to rise, and while Jaemin would have been estactic weeks ago, he feared it now. Both of them did. 

Renjun shakes his head, silent trickles on his cheek, “Yes, very happy.”

“Yeah?” Jaemin asks him softly as they sit there, “What made you the most happy?”

Renjun pushes him gently and shakes his head in a _no_ motion, “Jaemin, I can’t. I can-”

“Come on, baby,” Jaemin pleads gently, “Talk to me. Let’s make these last few minutes count. What made you happy?”

Renjun didn’t speak, just looked down with silent tears. 

And so Jaemin spoke for him, quickly before they run out of time, “Remember that night we climbed into the fountain?”

At this, Renjun nodded. 

“That was the first night that you came with me to Yeosan. Remember how much fun we had? You were surprised at how I came in first remember?” Jaemin tries to make them reminisce, because nothing was more sad than waiting for the morning to come in misery. 

Renjun nodded and wiped at his face, “Yeah,” And then he laughs painfully, “Remember when people looked at you as if you crazy? You know why now, right?” He tried to make light heart of it. A desparate attempt at lightening the mood of the incoming doom.

Jaemin smiles gently, “I can’t forgive you for that, you know” He half jokes, “You ruined my reputation. Everyone thinks I’m insane now”

Renjun gives him an apologetic look. Both of them try not to hear the obvious mental ticking of the countdown clock. 

“How about that time we swam in the lily pond. Remember that?” Jaemin asks in a soft but desperate voice, “The one with the water snakes?”

Renjun chuckled at his, all while putting his hands on his face to cover up the clear brimming of his eyes. Jaemin took them away so that he could see Renjun’s face. The smaller nodded, “You were so scared, Jaemin,” He smiles.

“And you weren’t,” Jaemin poked at him. It was playful to mask the sadness underneath, “You knew they couldn’t kill you.”

Renjun rolls his eyes, jokingly, “You’re taking every opportunity to remind me I’m not alive, Jaemin.” They were trying so hard to make it seem lighthearted, it was almost pathetic. 

“You owe me that,” Jaemin asks with a forced smile, “Oh, is that also why you have white-hair?”

Renjun laughs through tears as they enter the stage of bittersweet goodbyes, trying to make it lighthearted before it ends, “I am now a child of the heavens, Jaemin. White is our color.”

“Well it looks beautiful on you,” Jaemin tells him, and Renjun gives a shy smile while wiping at his eyes. 

Jaemin continues, “How about that night we played in the rain? On those hills?”

Renjun smiled at the memory, even though it hurt, “I remember. Do you remember our date? Our fake date?”

Jaemin nods. 

“That was the first time I’ve ever tried Cheetos,” Renjun laughs through his wet eyes, “It was horrible. I almost prefer not being able to taste.”

It was obvious that the two of them were desperately trying to make the situation easier to bear. By the way they were joking amidst the panic. It was an unhappy sight, the two of them sitting near the stream with one another, trying to chase after a doomed love with some fake laughter and tears. Up ahead, the sky was lightening more so, into that color that resembled a dark teal blue with a castover. 

They do this for a while, waiting for the sun, fearing it. And Jaemin begged the heavens to at least see the sunrise. He had never seen the sun with Renjun before, so he begged to at least see this. Next to him, it felt like Renjun was doing the same. 

“Remember,” Renjun sheds less tears now. He says this sometime later, “the pretty creek? The one we first went in?”

Jaemin nods, holding Renjun’s hands in his own. 

“I liked that place,” Renjun says quietly.

“We’ll go again,” Jaemin emptily assures him, once again wiping the wetness from his friend’s face, “One day, we’ll go again.”

“You promise?” Renjun asks. 

And Jaemin pulls him close until the boy once again had his face buried in Jaemin’s shoulders, “I promise.”

It was an empty one. There were no guarantees, and the both of them knew it. But it felt better to pretend that there was one. And internally, Jaemin promised that he would spend eternity searching for Renjun if he had to. 

And they stay there for a while, each second passed painfully too fast, yet waiting was awfully slow. Renjun felt alive in Jaemin’s embrace, but what came with being alive was pain. It stabbed his undead heart like a thousand knives. At least with the first time he passed, it was sudden. It was unforeseeable. But now, it was excruciating as he waited for it. He waited to disappear a second time, and although it would be to a good place, Renjun could not be convinced that any place would be better than here, in Jaemin’s arms. 

Renjun tilts his head up to look at the sky. At the horizon, he sees it. A sliver of light. Of sun. It was beautiful, and for the first time in years, he is able to be in this body while seeing the sun. He turns around to look where the moon was fading away, and he thanks the heavens silently for these last few moments. It was beautiful. They finally got to see the sun together. But not for long. He knew this. It wasn’t for long, and so he climbs out of Jaemin’s arms for a moment and stares at the boy. 

Jaemin stares back, and sees that most of Renjun’s tears were dried. In his eyes was still sadness, but above all that, overwhelming love. And Jaemin knew just then that he will never forget the look of those eyes. The adoring ones that he had grown to love. He knew it was the end, no matter what they said or tried to do to distract from it. It was the end, for he could see the sliver of morning sun in the horizon. Renjun was just as beautiful in the light as he was in the dark. Soft, smooth skin. Pink lips. Just as beautiful. Silence stood between them, as their emotions conveyed through their gaze speaks more words to the soul that anything else could have. 

In the beginning, Na Jaemin had forgotten what it felt like to feel alive, and Huang Renjun wanted nothing more than to remember. Now, they got what they both wanted, yet it felt bittersweet. 

It was the end. It was coming now. The terrifying reality was sinking in harder than it was before, and the two of them awaited the final countdown. It could happen any minute now. 

Renjun speaks then, voice gentle as he asks one last thing of Jaemin, “Close your eyes.”

Jaemin just looks at him, lips parted. 

But the smaller continues, “I don’t want you to see me disappear. Let’s not end it like this” He asks softly, “Come on, I’ll do it too.”

Jaemin swallows with slightly parted lips and keeps his gaze on the smaller. 

He looks at the face one more time, and falls in love all over again with not just the sight, but all the memories attached to it. The white hair that would haunt his sweetest dreams. The eyes that bore into his soul. The face he longed to touch. He looked at it one last time. The person he loved.

And then he closed his eyes. His heart felt ripped apart, but he let it. Through his eyelids, he could see red and orange, for the morning sun was settling in. It worked. The heavens had granted him a few last seconds. 

And in those last few seconds, with his eyes closed, Jaemin feels it. He feels the gentle touch of a sweet pair of lips on his own. Renjun’s. He kisses back, gently but enough so that Renjun would know he would be keeping this kiss with him for a long time. He feels it, and it ignites fire to his heart. A last kiss. His last kiss, one that would stick with him for eternity. It was their last one. Their last moment. What a perfect way to end it. And it _was_ that. The end, that is. 

For when he opens his eyes again, he sees nothing. 

No one. 

And it was then that Jaemin allowed himself to shed a tear, now, when Renjun wasn’t there to see.

Now, when Renjun was gone. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_-Sometime Down The Road-_

  
  
  


The wind greeted him gently as he steps out of his car, like an old friend welcoming him once again. It whispered like it used to, telling bittersweet stories in his ear. That was what wind does. It travels. It sees the world as it moves through. See its heartbreak, feel its stories, and it watches everything. It knows of the story of the lovers whose souls crossed realms to merge again, only to split and spend the rest of eternity searching for its missing piece. They knew this story and they whispered it back in Jaemin’s ears as he steps out of his car. 

Jaemin wears a button up shirt tucked into some slacks. His back stood straight as he stares at it. His heart beats a bit faster as he looked to what was ahead of him. 

It was autumn once more when Na Jaemin visits the grave for the first time. He had never done it before, afraid of what it symbolized. The love he lost. Not just once, but twice. But as spring turned into summer, and summer turned into autumn once more, everything began to feel more and more like a fever dream. 

Those nights so long ago spent in the water of some pond or lake. Running around downtown like a bunch of fools or skinny dipping in a hotel pool. The conversations whispered to each other up until the early mornings. Huang Renjun. It began to feel like a dream that he missed fondly. He didn’t forget. That was a promise to himself that he didn’t have a hard time keeping. 

Every time he swam in a pool during summer, sun kissing his skin as he floated and started up at the blue skies, he knew that he was able to do this because of a certain boy. 

Every time he walked past a fountain or some body of water, without even flinching a second, he knew that he was able to do this because of a certain white haired memory. 

He couldn’t forget Renjun if he tried. A love that was still there, crossing the realm into death, but alive nonetheless. He knew that he would never stop loving the smaller, but he still made an effort to continue living. Because Renjun left him with something deep, something profound: the desire to live. Not just for himself, but for the life that Renjun never had.

Because so many people live, but they are never truly _alive_. 

To feel the rain upon your skin, prickling yet fresh, like a Spring morning. To taste a berry upon your lips, tart yet revitalizing. To look up into the stars, twinkling in the cosmos. To love so deeply and so truly that to deny your heart would be a sin. To love like they had each other. 

That is what it means to be alive. And Jaemin refused to live the rest of his life feeling anything else. It would be a dishonor to Renjun’s memory. 

And so he stands there now, at the memorial garden on the corner of 2nd street and the gas station. It was a beautiful place to rest. With large overhanging trees and bushes of beautiful roses and daisies. Renjun liked those. Roses and daisies. Jaemin’s feet take him slowly down the rows, until he reaches the third one. 

And there he stands. Right in front of the headstone, and he suddenly felt the rush again. The rush of what it felt like to be in Renjun’s company. All of the memories. All of the nights spent with one another. All of the words exchanged. They became fresh on his mind. There were times when even though he knew in his heart it had all been real, he still asked himself, was it ? Was it all real? Had it all been a part of his head ? He asked himself this once or twice. 

But now, as he stands in front of the stone and felt the overwhelming wave of emotions, he knew. 

Jaemin knew it had been real. Not _just_ by the wave that infiltrated his soul. He knew by another sign. One tha was so obvious that to miss it would be foolish of him. He looks at it, and feels something in his chest. He knew. 

By a bouquet that rested at its base, right underneath the boy’s name. 

A bouquet of white flowers, a kind that couldn’t be touched by the living. 

A kind that could not have had meaning for anyone else but him.

A bouquet of Daturas. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? *sweats*  
> Tada, pls don't kill me, i dropped hints all along  
> but what do you guys think? Was Renjun real? Or not? 
> 
> I promise I will never do this again ahh!  
> I love you, and if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading.  
> I know it wasn't like the other fics, but thank you anyways. I love you guys
> 
> twitter: @ temposlvt  
> caard for fics: strawberrysummers.caard.co


End file.
